iW^U 


fv/. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


•/ 


ft 


^  f'j  _'". 


THE  BODLEY  BOOKS. 


THIS  scries  of  books  consists  of  five  volumes,  each  independent  of -the  others,  but  since  the 
characters  are  the  same  in  all  there  is  a  natural  connection  between  them,  and  the  order  of 
their  appearance  indicates  also  the  gradual  growth  of  the  children  who  make  up  the  younger 
members  of  the  Bodley  Family.  The  series  is  as  follows  :  — 

I.    DOINGS   OF   THE  BODLEY  FAMILY  IX   TOWN  AND   COUNTRY. 

This  contains  some  of  the  doings  of  Nathan,  Philippa,  and  Lucy  Bodley,  their  father  and 
mother,  the  hired  man  Martin,  and  Nathan's  Cousin  Ned,  upon  their  removal  from  Boston 
to  Roxbury.  It  introduces,  also,  Nathan's  pig,  the  dog  Neptune,  Lucy's  kitten,  Lucy's  doll, 
Mr.  Bottom  the  horse,  chickens,  mice;  it  .has  stories  told  to  the  children  by  their  parents, 
by  Martin,  and  by  each  other.  Martin's  brother  Hen  is  referred  to  occasionally. 

II.    THE   BODLEYS    TELLING   STORIES. 

In  this  book  Nathan's  cousin,  Ned  Adams,  a  young  collegian,  is  shown  as  much  of  the 
time  living  with  his  cousins,  and  Nurse  Young  becomes  a  part  of  the  family.  The  children 
are  entertained  with  a  good  many  stories,  especially  from  American  history;  they  have  a 
Mother  Goose  party,  and  go  on  a  journey  to  Cape  Cod.  Hen  remains  in  the  background. 

III.    THE  BODLEYS   ON   WHEELS. 

The  family  enter  a  carryall  and  drive,  accompanied  by  Ned  on  horseback,  along  the  coast 
of  Massachusetts  Bay  from  Boston  to  Gloucester,  and  thence,  through  Ipswich  and  Rowley, 
to  Newburyport,  and  so  home  again.  Their  drive  leads  them  through  historic  places  and  by 
spots  made  famous  in  poetry  and  legend.  On  their  arrival  home  they  find  Martin's  brother 
Hen  in  the  barn,  just  back  from  a  long  voyage. 

IV.     THE  BODLEYS  AFOOT. 

Hen  entertains  the  children  with  yarns,  and,  Ned  Adams  suddenly  appearing,  it  is  pro- 
posed that  he  and  Nathan  should  take  a  walk  to  New  York.  They  set  out  by  Dedham  and 
the  old  road  to  Hartford,  through  Pomfret  ;  but  at  Hartford,  where  they  stay  a  few  days 
with  some  old  relatives,  they  are  joined  by  Mrs.  Bodley,  Phippy,  and  Lucy,  who  go  down 
the  Connecticut  River  with  them  to  Saybrook,  and  then  go  back  to  Boston,  leaving  the  boys 
to  continue  their  walk  to  New  York.  They  are  stopped,  however,  at  New  Haven,  by  a  dis- 
patch from  Mr.  Bodley,  which  brings  them  back  at  once  by  rail. 


4888&0 

EDUCATION 


V.    MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

The  reason  of  the  dispatch  is  that  Mr.  Bodley  is  unexpectedly  called  to  Europe,  and  in 
this  final  volume  of  the  series  he  goes  abroad,  while  the  rest  of  the  family  at  first  go  for  a 
fortnight  to  Cape  Cod,  and  then  return  to  Roxbury.  Mr.  Bodley  does  not  return  till  Thanks- 
giving time,  but  lie  writes  letters  home,  and,  after  he  returns,  tells  stories  of  Europe.  The 
children,  besides,  have  their  own  journeys  and  adventures,  so  that  Europe  and  America  ap- 
pear in  equal  proportions.  Mrs.  Bodley,  who  stays  at  home,  has  been  to  Europe  before,  so 
that,  she  is  able  to  enlarge  on  what  Mr.  Bodley  writes  home,  and  Hen,  who  has  gone  off  on  a 
voyage,  stumbles  upon  Mr.  Bodley  abroad,  and  comes  back  before  him  with  fresh  yarns. 

The  time  of  the  five  stories  is  about  1848-1852. 


BY    THE   AUTHOR  OF 


'THE  BODLEYS  AFOOT,"  "THE  BODLEYS  ON  WHEELS,"  "THE  BODLEYS  TELLING 

STORIES,"  "DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY," 

"STORIES  FROM  MY  ATTIC,"  "DREAM  CHILDREN,"  AND 

"  SEVEN  LITTLE  PEOPLE  AND  THEIR  FRIENDS" 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 


1881 


Copyright,  1880, 
BY   IIOUGHTOX,   MIFFLIN   &   CO. 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 

E  I.  ECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED   BY 

H.  0.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTEXTS. 


CHAPTER 

I.     GRAND-UNCLE   ELISHA 


•  PAGE 

9 


II.  ON   THE   WAY   HOME 23 

III.  NEWS   FROM   SCOTLAND                          .    ^ 46 

IV.  THE   UNITED    STATES   IN   A   PASTURE 86 

V.  IN   THE   LOW   COUNTRIES 102 

VI.  IN   THE   HIGH   COUNTRY 133 

VII.  A  JOURNEY   ROUND   THE   GARDEN 160 

VIII.  DIVERS   STORIES 1" 

IX.  THANKSGIVING 135 

X.  THE   MAID   OF   ORLEANS    .                                                                   ...  196 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


CHAPTER   I. 

GRAND-UNCLE    ELISHA. 

R,  CHARLES  BODLEY  left  his  family  at  home  at 
Roseland  when  he  sailed  for  Europe,  early  in  July, 
about  thirty  years  ago ;  but  on  the  very  day,  the 
Fourth  of  July,  when  he  was  steaming  out  of 
New  York  harbor,  the  family  itself,  that  is,  Mrs.  Bodley, 
Nathan,  Philippa,  and  Lucy,  with  their  cousin  Ned  Adams, 
set  out  on  a  land  voyage  to  their  uncle  Elisha's  at  Scupper's  Point, 
Hyannis  Port,  Cape  Cod.  That  was  the  old  homestead,  where 
Great  Gran'ther  Scupper  had  lived  and  died,  after  bringing  up 
twelve  sons  and  eight  daughters,  and  there  still  lived  Grand-Uncle 
Elisha  Scupper,  in  the  house  which  his  father  had  built,  and  which 
had  taken  on  a  room  here  and  a  room  there  until  it  was  rather 
difficult  to  find  the  original  house.  It  stood  with  its  back  to  the 
ocean,  looking  out  upon  a  little  garden,  which  was  always  bright 
with  portulacca,  petunias,  and  hollyhocks.  Across  the  country  road 
which  strayed  over  from  Hyannis  was  a  square  built  store,  with 
a  faded  sign  of  D.  SCUPPER  upon  its  face.  The  Port  was  once 
a  busy  place  for  fishermen  and  their  families,  and  Squire  Scupper 
had  been  the  head  and  Centre  of  the  little  community ;  but  for 


10  Ml!.    IHHH.KY  ABROAI'. 

many  years  now  there  had  been  no  business  done  here,  and  Squire 
Scupper's  son  kept  the  key  of  the  store  hung  in  the  entry  of  the 
old  house,  taking  it  down  to  open  the  door  when  some  neighbor 
wanted  a  spool  of  thread,  a  few  raisins,  or  some  split  pease  out 
of  the  little  stock  that  was  kept  for  the  convenience  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. Once  in  a  while,  on  a  bright  afternoon,  Uncle  Elisha 
would  open  the  doors  wider  and  sit  in  a  great  arm-chair  made  for 
Squire  Scupper,  and  big  enough  now  to  hold  two  people  with  ease, 
especially  since  one  of  the  arms  was  gone,  and  there  he  would  read 
the  newspaper  and  entertain  any  chance  passer. 

The  Bodleys  always  counted  on  this  yearly  visit  to  the  Cape,  and 
now  that  their  father  had  gone  they  were  particularly  glad  to  make 
the  journey  with  their  mother,  for  it  seemed  lonely  at  home.  They 
set  out,  as  I  said,  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  the  crackers  were  pop- 
ping briskly  as  they  took  the  early  stage-coach.  They  usually  went 
in  their  own  carryall,  but  this  year  they  were  to  go  by  the  public 
conveyance.  Martin,  their  hired  man,  had  driven  them  into  town 
to  take  the  stage,  and  the  morning  air  wras  still  cool,  but  as  the 
day  wore  on  it  became  excessively  hot. 

"  I  suppose  your  father  is  just  starting,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley  about 
eleven  o'clock. 

"  I  wish  his  steamer  went  by  Uncle  Elisha's,"  said  Nathan.  "  I  'd 
wave  my  pocket  handkerchief  at  him." 

"  So  would  I  mine,"  said  Cousin  Ned,  mopping  his  forehead, 
"  if  it  would  wave ;  but  there  is  n't  a  particle  of  air  stirring,  and 
my  handkerchief  is  as  stringy  as  a  fishing-line.  Would  n't  I  like 
to  be  off  the  breakwater  at  this  moment,  or  diving  off  one  of 
the  rocks  !  " 

"  We  '11  play  this  stage-coach  is  a  steamer,"  said  Phippy,  "  and 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  11 

we  're  *  alone,  alone,  all,  all  alone,  alone  on  a  wide,  wide  sea.' 
Mother,  I  suppose  the  Fourth  of  July  is  the  very  middlest  middle 
of  midsummer,  is  n't  it?  Yesterday  was  near  the  top,  and  to- 
morrow will  begin  to  fall  off,  but  to-day  is  the  very  most  middle 
point,  and  exactly  at  twelve  o'clock  we  .shall  be  at  the  point  of 
a,  pin.  Yes,  it  will  begin  to  be  Fall  at  one  minute  after  twelve 
o'clock,  at  one  second  after  twelve." 

"  Poh,"  said  Nathan.  "  The  very  middle  must  be  at  twelve 
o'clock  at  night  between  the  thirtieth  of  June  and  the  first  of 
July." 

"  Well,  it 's  hotter  now  than  it  was  last  Saturday,"  rejoined 
Phippy. 

"  You  're  both  wrong,"  said  Ned,  pulling  up  a  limp  dickey. 
"  Children,  midsummer  is  the  twenty-fourth  day  of  June." 

"  Just  hear  him ;  how  wise  he  is.  Where  did  you  find  that 
out,  Mr.  Adams?" 

"  Oh,  I  learned  it  when  I  was  in  Ireland." 

"  Was  ye  iver  in  Ireland  ?  "  The  voice  came  from  a  corner  of 
the  coach  where  sat  a  passenger,  the  only  other  one  beside  the 
family,  a  woman  decently  dressed,  who  had  hitherto  kept  silence. 
Ned  laughed. 

"  Ye  're  foolin'  me,"  said  the  woman  good-naturedly.,  "  But 
manny  a  time  I  've  watched  a  midsummer  ave,  and  that 's  the 
same  as  the  ave  of  St.  John  the  Baptist.  It's  all  the  same  thing." 
The  children  looked  at  their  mother. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley ;  "  in  Europe  St.  John's  Eve  and  Mid- 
summer Eve  are  one  and  the  same.  Did  you  ever  gather  St.  John's 
wort,  then  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  smile,  of  their  neighbor. 

"  Indade,  no,  but  I  've  sat  up  manny  a  time  to  see  that  my  sowl 
did  n't  wander." 


12  MJi.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

••What  does  she  mean?"  whispered  Lucy.  The  woman  had 
quick  cars. 

"  Did  ye  never  hear  that  on  that  night  ivery  body's  sowl  laves 
his  body  and  Hies  off  to  the  place  where  the  man  or  woman  '11  die 
some  day  V  " 

••  Never."  said  Ned. 

"  Wil,  it  does." 

"  But  what  's  the  St.  John's  wort  for,  mother?  "  asked  Lucy,  who 
wished  to  get  away  from  such  an  uncanny  subject. 

••That  is  one  of  the  superstitions  of  the  day.  I  don't  know  how 
general  it  is  now,  but  I  suppose  in  some  places  young  men  and 
women  still  go  out  in  search  of  this  plant  and  others,  which  they 
think  have  magical  powers.  Girls  used  to  think  that  if  they  put 
one  of  these  flowers  in  their  room  that  night,  they  could  tell  in  the 

O  «/ 

morning,  by  the  way  it  bent,  whether  they  should  be  married  within 
a  year  or  not." 

"  Then  there  's  no  use  in  our  hunting  yet,"  said  Phippy,  with  be- 
coming philosophy.  "We  're  too  young." 

The  stage-nmtc  did  not  pass  through  Plymouth  and  the  Manomet 
Woods,  but  by  Middleborough,  and  so  to  Sandwich.  The  woods  in 
many  places  had  been  burned  over,  and  the  stage  toiled  through 
roads  that  were  often  heavy  with  sand.  It  was  rather  a  tedious 
journey,  and  the  children  were  glad  enough  on  the  second  day  to 
be  set  down  at  Hyannis.  They  found  their  Uncle  Elisha  waiting 
for  them  with  his  carryall;  they  had  caught  sight  of  it  out  of  the 
windows  of  the  coach. 

1  The  steps  are  down,  Nathan,"  Phippy  cried.  "I'm  going  to 
step  on  every  one." 

The  old  carryall  was  indeed  a  wonderful  vehicle.     Its  chief  glory 


SEEKING   ST.    JOHN'S   WORT,    MIDSUMMER    EVE. 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  15 

was  a  flight  of  narrow  steps  which  let  down  from  the  door,  one  after 
the  other,  making  a  somewhat  dangerous  staircase  to  climb,  for, 
as  soon  as  one  stepped  on  the  lowest,  he  seemed  in  danger  of  tip- 
ping the  whole  carryall  over  toward  him,  and  most  people  preferred 
to  make  as  little  use  as  possible  of  the  steps.  But  it  was  a  fine 
thing,  when  one  was  fairly  inside,  to  have  the  steps  folded  over  with 
a  clatter  and  left  shut  up  against  the  inside  of  the  door.  It  was 
hard  for  the  children  to  decide  whether  it  was  more  fun  to  climb 
the  staircase  and  sit  inside,  or  to  fold  it  up,  bang  the  door,  and  take 
a  front  seat. 

"•'  I  '11  fold  up  the  steps,  Uncle  Elisha,"  said  Nathan,  as  his  mother, 
Phippy,  and  Lucy  were  crowded  into  the  back  seat,  and  he  slapped 
them  over  and  slammed  the  door  with  the  air  of  a  veteran  stage- 
driver.  He  sat  with  his  broad  uncle  on  the  front  seat,  while  Ned 
got  into  a  wagon  with  the  trunks,  which  a  small  boy  in  a  wide- 
brimmed  straw  hat  was  to  drive.  The  two  loads  started  briskly 
over  the  road. 

"  So  Charles  has  gone,  has  he,  Sarah  ?  "  asked  Uncle  Elisha,  when 
they  were  fairly  off. 

"  Yes,  he  was  to  sail  yesterday  noon." 

"  I  suppose  he  would  like  to  have  gone  in  one  of  your  ships,  Un- 
cle Elisha,"  said  Nathan,  who  wished  to  make  conversation  with  his 
grand-uncle.  Uncle  Elisha  laughed. 

"  It  would  be  rather  slow  business  waiting  for  a  sailing  vessel, 
now,  Nathan.  My  sailing  days  are  over.  Since  they  've  begun  to 
run  vessels  by  tea-kettles  I  've  been  of  no  account." 

"  I  guess  the  Swiftsure  would  have  beaten  some  steamers,"  said 
Nathan,  politely,  and  then  he  changed  the  subject.  "  Do  you  have 
pandowdies  now,  uncle,  at  your  house  ?"  . 


16 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


"  Blackberry  pandoddies  ?  Well,  I  rather  think  your  Aunt  Polly 
has  n't  forgotten  how  to  make  them.  It  's  a  little  early  yet  for 
blackberries,  but  if  you  stay  long  enough  you  shall  have  some,"  and 
the  old  gentleman  looked  good-naturedly  down  on  his  little  nephew. 
"  So  you  've  been  taking  a  walk,  Nathan  ?  Got  'most  to  New  York, 
eh  ?  Went  to  New  Haven,  and  saw  all  the  professors  walking  about 
with  their  hands  inside  out?" 

"Hands  inside  out?  "  queried  Nathan.  "  It  was  vacation,  and  I 
don't  think  I  saw  any  professors.  Hands  inside  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that 's  the  way  professors  used  to  walk." 


Alexander. 


"  Oh,  there  's  Alexander,"  exclaimed  Lucy,  who  had  been  looking 
hard  ^out  of  the  window,  and  not  listening  to  the  random  talk. 
"  He  's  driving  his  cow  home.  Good  evening,  Alexander." 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  17 

"  I  hope  he  '11  take  us  out  in  his  boat,"  said  Phippy.  "  I  'm  going 
to  be  polite  to  him,  too.  Good  evening,  Alexander,"  she  said,  lean- 
ing forward  ;  "we've .come  back  again.  You  know  we  were  here 
last  year ; "  but  Uncle  Elisha  cracked  his  whip,  the  carryall  rattled 
on,  and  Phippy  bounced  back  against  the  seat  before  Alexander 
could  do  anything  more  than  stand  by  the  roadside  and  stare  at  the 
Bodleys.  As  they  drew  near  the  Point  the  children  looked  out 
eagerly  for  all  the  old  landmarks,  and  when  they  drove  up  to  the 
door  they  jumped  out  in  excellent  spirits.  Aunt  Polly  was  there  to 
receive  them,  and  a  capital  supper  was  waiting  on  the  table.  A 
thunder-storm  came  up  while  they  were  at  tea,  but  it  was  nearly 
over  when  they  got  up  from  the  table,  and  they  went  out  on  the 
back  porch  to  watch  the  ocean  and  see  the  full  moon  come  up 
through  the  clouds  that  lay  near  the  horizon.  It  was  a  bewitch- 
ing scene,  and  the  children  were  allowed  to  linger  over  it. 

"  I  should  n't  like  to  be  out  on  the  water  in  a  thunder-storm," 
said  Ned  Adams. 

"  You  'd  have  to  take  all  sorts  of.  weather,"  said  Uncle  Elisha. 
"  There  's  a  large  assortment  to  be  had." 

"  Were  you  ever  struck  by  lightning,  uncle  ? "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Well,  no,  not  particularly,  but  I  've  had  something  better  than 
that,  Phippy.  I  've  seen  the  St.  Elmo  fire." 

"  Is  it  anything  like  St.  Vitus's  dance  ?  "  asked  Lucy,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Did  you  ever  touch  it,  uncle  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  Nathan.  "  Is  it  animal,  vegetable,  or 
mineral  ?  " 

"Oh,  it's  an  electric  light,"  said  Uncle  Elisha,  that  plays  round 
the  topmast  sometimes.  "  I  've  seen  it  spirting  out  at  the  end  of 
the  yards  and  off  the  bowsprit.  Yes,  I  put  out  my  hand  once  to 

2 


18 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


touch  it,  and  the  current  went  right  through  my  body  and  the  fire 
came  out  at  the  ends  of  my  fingers.     I  looked  very  much  like  a 
juggler,  I  can  tell  you." 
«  Did  n't  it  hurt  ?" 

"No,  there  wasn't  any  heat,  nor  any  shock,  but  it  seemed  to 

_^  draw  away  the  flame 
I  from  the  spars.  I  sup- 
!  pose  I  was  a  sort  of 
\  conductor." 

"  I  wish  the  sun  had 
:  n't  gone  down,"  said 
;  Lucy ;"  we  might  have 
;  had  a  rainbow." 

"  And  gone  to  hunt 
|  for  the    pot  of    gold," 
I  said  Ned.     "  I  can  re- 
I  member  when  I  really 
thought   there   was   a 
pot   of    gold    which    a 
fairy  had  hidden  at  the 
other  end." 

"  Well,    there    i  s," 
said   Uncle    Elisha. 
"You    young    folks 
don't   believe   it  now, 
I  suppose,  but  I  do.     Don't  you,  Sarah  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  uncle  ?  "  she   asked,  looking  up  at  him. 
The  old  gentleman  smiled. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  mean.     When  the  rainbow 's  in  the  sky  we 


The  Fire  of  St.   Elmo. 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  19 

know  the  storm 's  over,  and  we  can  go  about  our  work,  and  nobody 
ever  found  a  pot  of  gold  who  did  n't  hunt  for  it  just  a  little  ahead 
of  him.  It 's  always  a  leetle  farther  off,  where  it  looks  brightest, 
at  the  end  of  the  bow  of  promise.  I  've  hunted  all  my  life,  but  I 
have  n't  found  it  yet.  Don't  you  ever  give  up  looking  for  the  pot 
of  gold." 

"  Do  you  want  us  all  to  be  rich,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  rich  with  what  you  get  by  hunting.  You'll  never  find  the 
pot  of  gold  lying  tipped  up  at  your  feet.  'People  get  whatever  is  of 
real  use  to  them  by  hunting  for  it." 

"  I  think  Lucy  knows  something  about  that,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 
"  Lucy,  you  know  how  the  wise  fairy  turned  things  into  gold,  don't 
you  ?  "  So  Lucy  in  the  moonlight  said  these  little  verses,  to  which 
Uncle  Elisha  listened. 

THE  WISE  FAIRY. 

BY   ALICE   CARY. 

Once,  in  a  rough,  wild  country, 

On  the  other  side  of  the  sea, 
There  lived  a  dear  little  fairy, 

And  her  home  was  in  a  tree,  — 
A  dear  little,  queer  little  fairy, 

And  as  rich  as  she  could  be. 

To  northward  and  to  southward 

She  could  overlook  the  land, 
And  that  was  why  she  had  her  house 

In  a  tree,  you  understand, — 
For  she  was  the  friend  of  the  friendless, 

And  her  heart  was  in  her  hand. 

And  when  she  saw  poor  women 
Patiently,  day  by  day, 


20 


MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

Spinning,  spinning,  and  spinning 

Their  lonesome  lives  away, 
She  would  hide  in  the  flax  of  their  distaffs 

A  lump  of  gold,  they  say. 


And  when  she  saw  poor  ditchers, 

Knee-deep  in  some  wet  dike, 
Digging,  digging,  and  digging 

To  their  very  graves,  belike, 
She  would  hide  a  shining  lump  of  gold 

Where  their  spades  would  be  sure  to  strike. 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA. 

And  when  she  saw  poor  children, 
Their  goats  from  the  pastures  take, 

Or  saw  them  milking,  and  milking, 
Till  their  arms  were  ready  to  break, 

What  a  plashing  in  their  milk-pails 
Her  gifts  of  gold  would  make ! 

Sometimes,  in  the  night,  a  fisher 
Would  hear  her  sweet,  low  call, 


21 


And  all  at  once  a  salmon  of  gold 
Right  out  of  his  net  would  fall  ; 

But  what  I  have  to  tell  you 
Is  the  strangest  thing  of  all. 

If  any  ditcher,  or  fisher, 

Or  child,  or  spinner  old, 
Bought  shoes  for  his  feet,  or  bread  to  eat, 

Or  a  coat  to  keep  from  the  cold, 
The  gift  of  the  good  old  fairy 

Was  always  trusty  gold. 

But  if  a  ditcher,  or  fisher, 
Or  spinner,  or  child  so  gay, 


22 


MR.  BOD  LEY  ABROAD. 

Bought  jewels,  or  wine,  or  silks  so  fine, 
Or  staked  his  treasure  at  play,  — 

The  fairy's  gold,  in  his  very  hold, 
Would  turn  to  a  lump  of  clay. 


So,  by  and  by  the  people 

Got  open  their  stupid  eyes  : 
"  We  must  learn  to  spend  to  some  good  end," 

They  said,  "  if  we  are  wise; 
'T  is  not  in  the  gold  we  waste,  or  hold, 

That  a  golden  blessing  lies." 

"  That 's  good  doctrine,"   said  Uncle  Elisha,  "  though   the  poor 
fishers  about  here  don't  get  so  very  many  golden  salmon." 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  23 

"  We  '11  have  some  scup,  anyway,  before  breakfast,"  said  Ned.  "  I 
should  be  disappointed  if  the  first  scup  I  caught  to-morrow  morning 
was  a  mere  chunk  of  gold." 

"  But  there  used  to  be  a  good  many  fishing  vessels  leaving  the 
Port,  Uncle  Elisha,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  I  have  heard  father  tell  of 
them." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  it  was  busy  enough  here  once :  your  grandfather, 
your  great-gran'ther  Scupper,  Nathan,  was  a  famous  man  for  mak- 
ing up  voyages.  Nobody  thought  he  'd  settled  matters  till  Squire 
Scupper  had  made  up  his  voyage.  He  used  to  spend  his  time  over 
at  the  store  in  that  big  chair  you've  seen;  he  was  a  powerful 
large  man,  and  though  he  was  only  justice  of  the  peace,  everybody 
went  to  him  for  the  law.  If  the  people  got  into  a  quarrel,  they 
carried  the  matter  to  Squire  Scupper,  and  whatever  he  said  was 
final.  They  tell  a  story  of  Josiah  Gage,  —  you  remember  him, 
Sarah?" 

"  That  little  dried  up  man,  that  died  a  few  years  ago  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that 's  the  one.  He  was  off  in  his  smack,  when  the  Brit- 
ish privateers  were  about,  in  the  War  of  1812,  and  his  smack  was 
overhauled.  The  British  captain  was  treating  him  rather  roughly, 
when  Josiah  bristled  up,  and  says  he,  '  See  here.  You  let  me  'lone. 
If  you  don't  behave  yourself,  I  '11  have  you  up  before  Squire  Scup- 
per ! ' " 

"And  did  he?"  asked  Nathan. 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Elisha,  with  a  twinkle,  "  they  do  say  that  Jo- 
siah frightened  him  a  little.  He  did  n't  know  any  bigger  man  than 
Squire  Scupper." 

"  They  did  n't  seem  to  mind  him  much,  when  they  caught  you," 
said  Ned. 


24  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Oh,  when  you  were  in  Dartmoor?"  exclaimed  Phippy,  who  had 
heard  her  grand-uncle  tell  his  mishaps  before. 

"  Yes,  you  know  all  about  that,"  said  Uncle  Elisha. 

"Oh,  but  please,  uncle,  tell  us  again,"  said  the  little  girl. 

"  Do  you  want  to  know  how  I  got  in,  or  how  I  tried  to  get  out  ?  " 

"  Tell  us  how  you  tried  to  get  out." 

"  You  want  to  know  how  your  poor  old  uncle  failed,  do  you  ? 
Well,  I  am  safely  out  now,  and  I  have  a  good  bed  and  table,  so  I 
don't  so  much  mind  having  been  kept  in  a  few  months  longer,  but  I 
was  a  pretty  severely  disappointed  man  at  the  time.  I  was  at  Dart- 
moor prison,  a  lonely  place  on  the  side  of  some  high  hills,  sur- 
rounded by  black  moors,  and  about  seventeen  miles  from  Plymouth, 
on  the  southwestern  coast  of  England.  It  was  a  dismal  place,  and 
we  were  shut  up  with  some  wretched  French  prisoners  in  a  damp, 
unwholesome  prison.  I  believe  prisons  are  a  more  agreeable  sort 
of  place  nowadays,  but  I  'd  just  as  lieve  not  stay  in  one  long,  though 
it 's  better  to  be  put  in  for  serving  your  country  faithfully  than  for 
committing  some  crime.  However,  we  were  in  prison,  and  meant 
to  get  out  if  we  could.  There  were  two  great  walls  inclosing  the 
prison.  The  outer  one,  which  was  about  sixteen  feet  in  height,  was 
a  mile  in  circumference  ;  the  inner  wall  was  about  thirty  feet  from 
the  outer  and  a  guard  was  placed  on  top  of  it,  every  twenty  feet. 
Between  the  two  walls  were  also  guards  and  many  small  buildings. 
Our  plan  was  to  dig  passages  from  under  three  of  the  prisons  to  a 
depth  of  about  twenty  feet,  and  then  horizontally  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  which  would  bring  us  out  into  the  road  that  passed 
beyond  the  prison  inclosure.  There  were  a  good  many  of  us,  and  we 
were  all  sworn  to  the  most  solemn  secrecy.  The  three  prisons  from 
which  we  were  trying  to  escape  were  numbered  four,  five,  and  six. 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA.  25 

We  made  a  hole  in  each  just  large  enough  for  a  single  fellow  to 
squeeze  through,  but,  after  a  little  progress  had  been  made,  we  en- 
larged the  opening  below  so  that  four  men  could  work  abreast.  We 
worked  at  night,  and  closed  the  opening  so  carefully  that  no  one 
could  discover  it  except  he  was  in  the  secret." 

"  How  did  you  get  rid  of  the  dirt  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  We  tried  various  ways.  There  was  a  stream  which  ran  under 
one  of  the  prisons,  at  about  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour ;  we 
threw  a  good  deal  of  it  into  that,  and  it  was  carried  off  by  the  cur- 
rent. Then  we  found  hollow  places  in  which  we  stowed  it,  and  we 
got  permission  to  whitewash  the  walls,  but  before  we  whitewashed 
we^  daubed  the  walls  with  a  mortar  made  of  the  dirt,  and  white- 
washed over  that.  You  see  there  were  three  or  four  thousand  pris- 
oners, and  it  was  not  possible  to  keep  a  very  sharp  lookout.  We 
began  our  work  near  the  end  of  August,  and  before  September  had 
got  about  forty  feet  along.  Then  the  air  began  to  be  bad,  and  we 
contrived  a  lamp  which  we  kept  burning  in  the  hole,  to  expel  the 
dead  air.  But  on  the  second  of  September  we  had  a  great  fright. 
The  captain  came  along  with  his  guards,  —  I  was  in  prison  number 
six,  —  and  told  us  he  had  found  us  out.  He  went  straight  toward 
the  hole,  but  could  n't  find  it.  Then  they  began  sounding  with  a 
crow-bar,  and  at  last  hit  the  spot.  You  may  believe  we  were  pretty 
well  cast  down,  for  we  thought  that  was  the  end  of  it.  But  it  turned 
out  that  they  did  not  know  of  the  holes  in  numbers  four  and  five, 
and  all  they  did  was  to  plug  up  the  'hole  in  our  prison.  They  could 
n't  think  what  we  had  done  with  the  earth,  and  when  they  asked 
us,  we  all  said  we  ate  it  up  to  make  up  for  our  short  fare.  They 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  our  getting  out,  and  when  the  affair  was 
blown  over  we  went  to  work  again.  We  waited  in  number  six  until 


26  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

the  other  holes  had  been  carried  farther,  for  ours  was  the  longest, 
and  then  we  began  again,  dug  round  the  stones  they  had  put  in  to 
fill  up  our  hole,  and  went  at  it  like  beavers  or  musk-rats.  We 
worked  away  with  new  hope  until  we  were  within  about  forty  feet 
of  the  place  we  were  to  come  out.  Then  we  began  to  form  our 
plans  farther.  We  meant  to  take  a  dark,  stormy  night  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  strike  for  Torbay,  which  was  about  ten  miles  distant, 
where  we  knew  there  were  a  lot  of  small  craft,  fishing  boats,  and 
unarmed  vessels,  and  with  these  to  make  our  way  to  France.  It 
was  a  perfectly  feasible  plan,  and  everything  was  going  on  well, 
when,  about  the  middle  of  September,  in  broad  daylight,  a  wretch 
who  was  in  the  secret  marched  up  to  the  turnkeys,  went  with  them 
to  the  keeper's  house,  and  told  the  whole  story.  He  got  his  reward  ; 
they  gave  him  his  liberty  and  some  money,  I  believe,  but  I  would 
rather  have  stayed  in  Dartmoor  the  rest  of  my  days  than  have  had 
a  minute  of  that  man's  freedom.  We  should  have  got  out  if  we 
had  not  been  betrayed.  You  can  guard  yourself  against  everything 
but  a  traitor." 

"  What  became  of  the  man  ?  " 

"  I  never  knew.  If  he  has  died  he  has  gone  to  judgment,"  said 
Uncle  Elisha  solemnly.  ".If  he  is  alive,  he  is  waiting  for  the  last 
judgment,  but  I  guess  he 's  been  in  a  worse  prison  than  Dartmoor 
a  good  many  years.  There  's  no  prison  so  bad  as  a  guilty  con- 
science." 

"  How  did  you  get  out,  finally  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Well,  it  turned  out  I  was  a  neutral.  I  did  n't  know  it,  but  I  had 
no  objection  when  I  found  it  out.  You  see  I  had  shipped  on  board 
a  Nantucket  vessel,  and  when  we  were  caught  we  were  all  put 
down  as  from  Nantucket.  So  one  day  the  word  came  for  all  Nan- 


GRAND-UNCLE  ELISHA. 


tucket  men  to  come  out  into  the  square.  I  thought  I  'd  go  to  see 
what  the  fun  was,  and  there  was  Sir  Isaac  Coffin,  who  was  a  British 
admiral.  He  was  a  Bos- 
ton boy,  but  came  of 
the  Nantucket  Coffins. 
He  was  a  hearty  old 
fellow,  and  wanted  to 
do  a  good  turn  to  his 
countrymen,  so  he 
made  out  that  Nan- 
tucket  was  a  sort  of 
neutral  country  and  he 
got  us  all  off." 

"  Now  that  Uncle 
Elisha  is  safe  at  home 
again,  children,  I  think 
you  may  all  go  to  bed. 
You  will  have  a  great 
deal  to  do  to-morrow. 
You  know  you  must 
catch  some  scup  for 
breakfast." 

"  Just  one  thing  more,  mother,"  said  Nathan.  "  Uncle  Elisha,  I 
wish  you  'd  tell  me  what  you  meant  by  professors  walking  with 
their  hands  turned  inside  out."  Uncle  Elisha  laughed. 

"  Why,  this  way,  Nathan,"  and  the  old  gentleman  got  up   and 

walked  along  the  porch,  with  his  hands  held  stiffly  by  his  side,  the 

i 

palms  turned  outward. 

"  Oh,"  said  Nathan.     "  Is  that  it  ?  "     Then  they  all  trooped  off 


A  Small  Chance. 


28  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

to  bed,  and  Uncle  Elisha,  Aunt  Polly,  and  Mrs.  Bodley  followed 
shortly.  There  was  nothing  left  awake  in  the  house  -but  a  mouse 
which  was  stealing  toward  the  old  clock  in  the  moonlight,  while  a 
cat  sat  fast  asleep.  Perhaps  the  mouse  had  heard  Uncle  Elisha's 
story,  and  expected  to  escape  the  guard. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON    THE    WAY    HOME. 

THE  fortnight  at  Hyannis  Port  was  soon  over.  It  was  no  new 
thing  for  the  children  to  be  there,  and  so  they  knew  exactly  what 
to  do,  and  used  all  their  time  with  the  strictest  economy.  They 
went  in  bathing  just  as  often  as  they  were  allowed,  and  never  lost 
an  opportunity  to  go  out  in  the  boat.  They  went  off  with  their 
Uncle  Elisha  after  wood,  and  on  stormy  days  they  played  in  the 
store,  which  they  kept  to  their  own  satisfaction,  and  it  was  vastly 
better  fun  selling  real  goods  over  a  real  counter  to  each  other  than 
playing  at  the  same  game  at  home.  They  found  an  odd  assortment 
of  abandoned  hats,  shoes,  and  some  coats  and  dresses,  with  which 
the  store  had  been  stocked  years  before,  but  were  now  wholly  out 
of  fashion,  even  for  the  plain  people  of  the  neighborhood,  and  they 
had  fine  fun  dressing  themselves  in  this  faded  finery  and  parad- 
ing about  in  it.  They  marched  around  the  neighborhood,  and  gave 
great  amusement  to  the  very  people  who  had  once  seen  themselves 
and  friends  in  the  same  costumes  without  a  smile.  On  Sunday,  after 
driving  over  to  the  village  to  church,  they  went  at  dusk  to  the 


ON   THE    WAY  HOME.  29 

little  school-house  at  the  Port  to  an  evening  meeting,  and  were  less 
interested  in  the  meeting  itself  than  in  the  great  variety  of  lamps 
contributed  by  the  people  who  came  to  the  meeting,  and  in  seeing 
and  hearing  some  of  their  familiar  acquaintances  whom  they  had 
never  suspected  of  having  gifts  for  exhortation. 

When  the  fortnight  was  over  Uncle  Elisha  proposed  to  drive  the 
family  home  as  far  as  Plymouth,  where  they  could  take  the  stage. 
He  had  some  business  in  Plymouth,  and  was  very  glad  of  the  chance 
of  company  there,  he  said.  He  packed  the  family  into  his  wagon, 
though  it  was  a  close  fit,  and  they  started  off  early  in  the  morning, 
intending  to  dine  at  Sandwich  and  get  supper  at  Plymouth.  Just 
as  they  were  leaving  the  house  they  heard  Aunt  Polly  calling  for 
Bose,  the  dog.  They  looked  around  but  could  see  nothing  of  him, 
but  as  they  drove  on  Aunt  Polly  called  louder  and  louder,  and 
seemed  to  be  calling  after  them.  Suddenly  she  shouted  "  Stop  !  " 
and  Uncle  Elisha  reined  in  his  horse.  Aunt  Polly  came  hurrying 
toward  them. 

"Bose,  come  here!"  she  cried,  and  then  it  turned  out  that 
Bose  had  been  trotting  along  beneath  the  wagon,  just  like  an 
emigrant  dog,  as  Nathan  said,  and  was  very  reluctant  to  come 
out  and  give  up  his  trip  to  Plymouth. 

"  Bose  has  friends  at  Plymouth,"  said  Uncle  Elisha.  "  I  'spect 
he  knew  we  were  going  there.  Fact  is,  he  used  to  visit  there, 
and  perhaps  he  'd  be  living  there  now  if  Captain  Ezra  Gage 
had  n't  got  married." 

"  Why,  what  did  that  have  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  Bose  belonged  to  Captain  Gage,  who  lived 
over  east,  and  he  was  an  old  bachelor;  but  he  married  Desire 
Crowell,  who  lived  in  Plymouth;  and  before  he  married  he  used 


30  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

to  go  there  to  see  Desire,  and  took  Bose  along  with  him.  Desire 
had  a  cat  that  she  set  great  store  by,  and  whenever  Bose  saw 
that  cat  he  made  for  her.  They  kept  'em  apart  pretty  well  for 
a  time,  but  at  length  it  would  n't  answer,  and  Desire  said  to 
Ezra,  '  Now,  Ezra  Gage,  you  've  got  to  choose  between  me  and 
Bose.  You  can't  have  us  both.  Bose  is  getting  old  and  I  think 
I  shall  live  the  longest,  so  I  'd  advise  you  to  take  me ;  but  do 
just  as  you  please  about  it.' ' 

"  And  he  gave  up  Bose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  gave  him  up  to  me ;  but  I  think  he  kind  of  hesi- 
tated about  it  at  first.  He  'd  got  used  to  Bose,  but  then  he  's 
got  used  to  Desire  now.  They  came  back  from  Plymouth  after- 
ward. Does  n't  seem  as  though  Desire  ever  thought  of  giving 
up  the  cat." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  I  once  heard  of  two  people  mar- 
rying to  please  a  dog." 

"  Let  's  hear  about  it,"  said  Uncle  Elisha.  "  Perhaps  I  can 
remember  about  it  to  tell  Ezra  some  day,  — -  some  day  when  he  's 
out  fishing  and  Desire  's  —  well,  say  three  miles  off  to  windward," 
and  Uncle  Elisha  looked  round  slyly  at  Ned,  wiio  was  sitting  by 
him. 

"  It  's  a  French  story,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  which  Saintine,  who 
wrote  '  Picciola,'  tells.  He  had  a  friend  named  Cabassol  who  was 
a  crusty,  growling  bachelor,  and  lived  by  himself  in  the  country, 
where  he  smoked  his  pipe,  read  his  books,  took  care  of  his  gar- 
den, or  walked  in  the  fields  with  his  dog.  His  dog  was  his  best 
friend,  he  used  to  say,  and  that  turned  out  to  mean  more  than 
he  at  first  intended.  Medor,  for  that  was  the  name  of  the  dog, 
had  belonged  to  a  widow  who  lived  near  the  park  of  St.  Germain. 


ON  THE    WAY  HOME.  31 

But  the  park  was  so  very  near  that  it  was  a  constant  temptation 
to  Medor  to  hunt  there ;  and  that  was  very  much  against  the 
laws.  The  keepers  declared  that  they  would  shoot  Medor  if  they 
caught  him  there  again ;  so  the  widow,  who  could  not  bear  to  have 
Medor  in  danger,  looked  about  for  some  one  to  whom  she  could 
give  the  dog.  Cabassol  was  named  as  one  who  would  be  sure  to 
take  good  care  of  the  dog,  and  so,  though  she  had  never  seen 
him,  she  sent  the  dog  to  him.  The  two  became  fast  friends,  and 
Cabassol  never  went  anywhere  without  Medor. 

"  But  one  day,  when  Medor's  nose  was  in  his  plate,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  thinking  of  nothing  but  his  dinner,  he  suddenly 
raised  his  head,  and,  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  began  to  howl 
and  whine  in  the  most  piteous  and  unaccountable  manner.  The 
door-bell  rang ;  Medor  sprang  forward,  and  when  Cabassol  joined 
him,  he  found  him  rolling  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  at  the  feet  of  a 
stranger,  and  leaping  up  and  down  as  if  beside  himself.  It  was 
his  old  mistress  who  had  left  St.  Germain  for  Paris,  and  had  come 
out  into  the  country  to  see  her  old  friend  Medor ;  for  now,  she 
said,  she  could  keep  him  without  any  danger.  She  cried  at  the 
welcome  her  dog  gave  her.  Would  not  Monsieur  Cabassol  per- 
mit her  to  have  Medor  again?  She  would  gladly  pay  whatever 
he  chose  to  ask  for  Medor's  board  during  the  last  three  years, 
and  a  good  round  sum  besides. 

"  Cabassol  was  furious.  Give  up  the  dog  !  No  money  could  buy 
him,  and  he  was  almost  uncivil  to  the  widow. 

" (  But  he  will  die  of  grief,'  said  she.  '  See  how  fond  he  is  of 
me.  I  am  sure  he  could  never  bear  to  give  me  up.' 

" ( I  don't  believe  it,'  shouted  Cabassol.  '  Come,  I  '11  try  it 
with  you.  We  will  go  together  to  yonder  hill  which  lies  between 


32  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

my  house  and  Paris.  There  we  will  separate.  You  shall  go 
down  the  southern  path,  and  I  will  take  the  northern,  that  comes 
back  to  my  house.  Medor  shall  belong  to  whichever  one  of  us 
he  chooses  to  follow.' 

" ( Very  well,'  said  she,  *  I  am  agreed,'  for  she  was  confident 
that  the  dog  would  follow  her.  Medor  did  not  quite  understand 
the  agreement;  but  he  saw  that  the  two  people  whom  he  loved 
best  had  shaken  hands  and  stopped  quarreling  and  were  now  talk- 
ing politely  together.  He  was  full  of  delight,  gamboling  about 
them,  and  petted  by  both.  Cabassol,  though  a  crusty  bachelor, 
was,  after  all,  a  pleasant  companion  when  he  chose,  and  now, 
feeling  some  pity  for  the  lady  who  was  to  be  disappointed,  he 
began  to  talk  and  to  make  himself  very  agreeable ;  and  the 
widow,  sorry  for  the  loss  which  she  was  to  cause  him,  and  feeling 
happy  at  recovering  Medor,  was  in  high  spirits  and  made  herself 
quite  entertaining. 

"  When  the  time  came  for  her  to  go,  the  three  walked  slowly  to- 
gether to  the  top  of  the  hill,  —  the  two,  I  mean  —  for  Medor  was 
frisking  about  them  in  great  glee.  At  the  top  they  separated,  and 
Cabassol  went  at  once  down  the  northern  slop,  while  the  lady  went 
down  the  southern,  and  Medor  bounded  after  her.  But  in  a  mo- 
ment he  saw  that  his  master  was  not  with  them ;  he  ran  back  to 
him ;  then  he  saw  his  mistress  was  not  following,  but  was  keeping 
on  in  her  path ;  he  ran  back  to  her ;  then  to  Cabassol,  who  was  still 
keeping  on  in  his  path ;  then  to  his  mistress ;  then  to  Cabassol,  then 
to  his  mistress;  then,  —  and  so  up  and  down,  backward  and  for- 
ward, the  road  becoming  longer  and  steeper  each  time.  He  could 
not  make  up  his  mind-  which  to  leave ;  he  could  not  understand  it  at 
all ;  he  went  first  to  one,  then  to  the  other,  ten  times,  and  then  ten 


ON   THE    WAY  HOME. 


33 


times  more,  while  they,  without  turning  about,  or  saying  a  word, 
kept  straight  on  in  their  separate  paths.  At  last,  poor  Medor,  out 
of  breath,  the  sweat  pouring  from  him,  his  tongue  hanging  out  of 
his  mouth,  fell  down 
completely  exhausted, 
on  the  very  top  of  the 
hill  where  they  had  sep- 
arated ;  and  there,  turn- 
ing his  head  first  to  the 
right  and  then  to  the 
left,  he  tried  to  follow, 
with  his  eyes  at  least, 
the  two  beings  to  each 
of  whom  he  had  given 
half  his  heart. 

"  Cabassol,  meanwhile, 
saw  how  the  poor  dog 
fared,  for  each  time  he 
returned  to  him  he  was 
panting  harder.  He  was 
seized  with  pity  for  him  ; 
he  resolved  to  give  back 
Medor  to  the  lady,  else 
he  saw  that  Medor  would 
surely  die.  He  turned  up  the  hill  and  came  to  the  top.  At  the 
same  moment  the  widow  came  up  the  hill  from  the  other  side,  she, 
too,  out  of  pity  for  Medor,  resolving  to  sacrifice  her  own  feelings 
and  suffer  Cabassol  to  keep  the  beloved  dog.  They  met  at  the  top 
over  the  poor  fellow,  who  was  now  wagging  his  tail  in  a  feeble 


Poor   Medor  ! 


34  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

manner,  to  express  his  delight.  But  how  could  they  make  the  poor 
animal  submit  to  a  new  separation  ?  If  he  were  to  go  with  either 
alone,  it  would  break  his  heart,  Cabassol  reflected.  He  saw  only 
one  way  of  getting  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  that  was  to  marry  the 
lady.  Would  she  have  him  ?  Yes,  for  Medor's  sake.  And  so  they 
married  to  please  the  dog." 

"  What  a  pity  Bose  could  n't  have  managed  his  affairs  better," 
said  Ned. 

"  But  then  Uncle  Elisha  would  n't  have  had  him,"  objected 
Phippy.  It  was  late1  in  the  afternoon  when  they  came  into  Plym- 
outh, and  they  saw  one  vessel  only  in  the  harbor. 

"  There  is  the  Mayflower,"  said  Lucy.  "  How  fortunate  we  are 
in  getting  here  now !  We  shall  be  in  time  to  see  them  land." 

"  They  are  in  the  cabin  now  signing  their  compact,"  said  Ned, 
"  and  that 's  the  reason  why  we  don't  see  them  at  this  moment." 

"  Then  they  won't  land  for  a  month,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  and  we 
won't  wait  for  them.  Besides,  the  Mayflower  was  in  Provincetown 
harbor  when  they  signed  the  compact." 

"  That  compact  was  a  sensible  document,"  said  Uncle  Elisha. 
"  It  shows  how  reasonable  those  Pilgrims  were  when  they  saw  that 
they  never  could  prosper  in  a  colony  if  each  family  or  person  looked 
after  themselves  only.  They  meant  to  agree  together  and  to  help 
each  other,  and  that's  the  reason  why  their  colony  lasted  in  spite  of 
all  the  trouble  they  had." 

The  Bodleys  had  a  day  in  Plymouth  before  they  went  home, 
and  they  took  a  little  excursion  to  Duxbury.  They  had  been  in 
Plymouth  more  than  once  before  and  were  familiar  with  the  curiosi- 
ties there,  but  they  never  had  made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  home  of 
Standish,  and  as  that  famous  captain  had  often  been  repre- 


ON   THE    WAY  HOME. 


35 


sented  in  their  sports,  they  thought  it  no  more  than  right  that  they 
should  look  up  his  bones  if  they  could  find  them.  Uncle  Elisha  went 
with  the  party  and  carried  them  to  the  top  of  Captain's  Hill,  which 
was  a  part  of  the  old  Standish  farm. 


Signing  the   Compact. 

"  What  a  splendid  place  for  a  bonfire !  "  said  Phippy. 

"  Splendid  indeed,"  said  Uncle  Elisha,  "  and  I  've  no  doubt  it  saw 
a  good  many  in  Standish's  day  and  afterward.  They  had  no  tele- 
graph in  those  times,  and  no  light-houses  either.  I  've  no  doubt 
they  lighted  fires  here  on  stormy  nights  when  they  were  expecting 


36 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


a  vessel  in,  and  that  they  used  the  hill  for  a  beacon.  You  know 
they  used  to  signal  from  one  place  to  another  by  means  of  fires, 
bale-fires  they  called  them,  for  they  generally  were  used  to  warn 
people  of  some  danger." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ned,  "  don't  you  remember  Scott's 

'  Sweet  Teviot!  on  thy  silver  tide 

The  glaring  bale-fires  blaze  no  more?  '  " 

"  I  'm  not  sure  that 
bale  meant  misfortune," 
said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  I 
think  it  meant  fagot  or 
N]  something  of  'the  kind, 
for  I  remember  having 
read  that  there  used  to 
be  signals  by  numbers, 
that  one  bale  meant  one 
thing,  two  something 
else." 

"  Just  as  it  was  with 
the  lanterns  hung  f o  r 
Paul  Revere,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Exactly,  and  do  you 
remember,  Ned,  how  the 
Scotch  had  another  sig- 
nal by  fire  when  they 
sent  the  Fiery  Cross 
about  ?  " 

"  To     be    sure    I    do. 
In   the    '  Lady    of    the 


The  Fiery  Cross. 


ON   THE   WAY  HOME.  39 

Lake  '  you  know  Roderick  Dhu  killed  a  goat,  and  then  the  priest 
dipped  a  cross  in  the  blood.  But  there  was  n't  any  fire  about  it, 
aunt,  I  believe.  They  called  it  the  Fiery  Cross  because  anybody 
who  disobeyed  the  signal  would  be  put  to  death  by  fire.  I  think 
that  was  the  reason." 

"  But  what  was  the  cross  for,  anyway  ?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  Why,  it  was  the  method  the  chief  of  a  clan  used  to  bring  his 
men  about  him.  He  made  a  light  cross  of  wood,  and  then  —  oh,  I 
remember,  he  did  set  the  ends  on  fire,  and  then  put  out  the  fire  by 
dipping  it  in  the  blood  of  a  goat,  and  the  cross  was  sent  from  village 
to  village,  and  every  man,  who  saw  it  must  go  at  once  to  the  ren- 
dezvous which  was  named  by  the  messenger." 

"  Well,  they  knew  how  to  send  messages  in  the  old  colony,"  said 
Uncle  Elisha,  "  and  they  could  talk  with  the  Indians  in  that  way. 
You  know  Tisquantum  brought  a  rattlesnake  skin  from  Canonicus, 
and  the  colonists  knew  very  well  that  meant  defiance.  I  always 
liked  old  Governor  Bradford's  pluck,  when  he  stuffed  the  skin  full 
of  bullets  and  sent  it  back  again." 

"Now,  uncle,"  said  Nathan,  "just  show  us  where  Captain  Miles 
Standish  was  buried,  and  we  '11  go  and  salute  his  grave." 

"  Nobody  knows.  I  suppose  it  was  somewhere  on  the  side  of 
this  hill.  Down  yonder  his  house  stood,  but  it  was  burned  after 
his  death.  His  son  Alexander  built  a  house  in  1666,  which  yon  see 
over  there,  the  Faunce  House  they  call  it  now,  and  we  '11  go  down 
and  take  a  look  at  it,  for  it 's  an  old  house,  and  when  you  see  it 
you  '11  come  about  as  near  to  seeing  Miles  Standish's  house  as  you 
can."  They  all  started  down  the  hill,  and  Uncle  Elisha  kept  on  with 
his  story.  "  The  colony  granted  the  Standish  farm  to  the  captain 
in  1630.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  named  the  place  Duxbury  after 


40 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


Duxbury  Hall  in  England,  where  the  Standishes  lived.  There  's  a 
little  mystery  about  the  Captain.  No  one  knows  exactly  why  he 
came  with  the  Pilgrims.  He  does  n't  seem  to  have  been  made  pre- 


Standish  House,  Duxbury.     Built  1666. 


cisely  out  of  the  same  material,  but  he  was  a  good  soldier,  and  he 
was  worth  a  host  to  the  young  colony.  There,  this  is  the  house, 
and  it's  pretty  certain  that  Alexander  Standish  used  some  of  the 


THE    WAY  HOME. 


41 


timbers  out  of  the  old  house  that  was  burned,  for  you  can  see  marks 
on  the  beams  in  some  places  where  they  used  a  whipsaw,  and  as 
they  had  saw-mills  in  Alexander's  time,  it 's  not  likely  he  would 
have  used  a  whipsaw,  though  that's  not  certain." 

"  What  is  a  whipsaw  ?  " 

"  It  's  a  big  saw  with  two  handles,  worked  by  a  couple  of  men, 
but  it's  slow  work.  That  isn't  the  only  sign  though,  for  the  beams 


Fire-place  in  tne  Standish  House. 


show  evidence  of  having  been  used  before.  They  are  of  oak,  and 
people  have  found  the  mortises  and  tenons  used  in  the  old  framing. 
But  we  '11  ask  to  go  inside." 

Uncle  Elisha  knocked  and  a  woman  came  to  the  door.  Her  good- 
natured  face  looked  very  familiar,  and  puzzled  Mrs.  Bodley  a  mo- 
ment. Lucy  plucked  her  mother's  gown,  but  before  she  could 
whisper,  the  woman  herself  spoke  out. 


42 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


"It's  ye,  is  it?  An  are  ye  lookin'  for  St.  John's  wort?"  and 
she  broke  into  a  laugh.  It  was  their  stage-coach  acquaintance  of  a 
fortnight  ago.  Uncle  Elisha  did  n't  quite  make  out  the  meaning  of 

her  question. 

"  We  've  called  to  ask  if  these  children  could  see  the  inside  of  the 
old  Standish  House,"  he  explained. 


Doors  and  Latches  in  the  Standish  House. 


"  Walk  in,  walk  in.  It's  not  me  that  knows  anny thing  about  the 
old  house.  I  only  came  yisterday,  and  the  misthress  is  away.  But 
I  know  the  leddy  and  her  family.  Ye  're  wilcome,  ma'am.  It 's  a 
quare  old  place."  She  led  them  into  a  room  where  they  saw  a 
great  fire-place  with  a  crane  and  an  old  brick  oven.  A  warming- 
pan  hung  on  the  chimney. 

"  There,"  said  Uncle  Elisha,  "  this  old  hearth-stone  is  said  to  have; 


ON   THE    WA  Y  HOME.  45 

come  out  from  the  first  house,  and  there  are  some  doors  and  latches 
which  tradition  says  belonged  there  too."  The  children  walked 
about  and  were  pretty  sure  they  found  these,  for  there  were  some 
very  venerable  ones,  older  and  quainter  than  others  in  the  house. 

"  How  queer  it  seems,"  said  Ned,  as  they  left,  "to  see  an  Irish 
woman  who  has  n't  been  over  here  very  long  taking  care  of  an  old 
Pilgrim's  house." 

"  Well,  she  would  n't  have  come,"  said  Uncle  Elisha,  "  if  Miles 
Stand ish  had  n't  come  over  first  and  cleared  the  way  for  her. 
Those  ventures  two  hundred  and  thirty  years  ago  had,  after  all,  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  these  ship  loads  of  Irish  emigrants  now,  though 
they  may  not  know  it." 

"  Miles  got  the  Indians  out  of  the  way  before  Patrick  started," 
said  Nathan,  sagely. 

"  Yes,  he  was  needed,  and  perhaps  they  would  have  fared  much 
worse  without  him,  for  the  Pilgrims  found  it  hard  to  understand 
the  Indians,  and  they  were  so  unlike  each  other  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  they  should  not  come  to  blows.  But  they  had  no 
savage,  malicious,  or  envious  feelings  towards  them,  and  they 
gladly  showed  their  good  will  whenever  they  could.  Indeed,  the 
Pilgrims  got  along  rather  better  with  the  Indians  than  the  Boston 
people  did,  and  more  than  once  the  Indians  would  bring  in  a 
deer  to  show  their  friendliness." 

The  morning  was  pretty  much  occupied  with  the  visit  to  Dux- 
bury,  and  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  tide  was  up,  they  had  a 
good  plunge  in  the  sea.  The  next  day  they  bade  Uncle  Elisha 
good-by  and  took  the  stage  for  Boston. 

"  Sha'n't  we  go  through  Duxbury  again  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Not  through  the  part  where  you  were  yesterday,  but  you  Ml 


46  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

go   by   the   Tree   of   Knowledge,    and    that  's   on    the    borders   of 

Duxbury." 

"  The  Tree  of   Knowledge  !    then  is  Duxbury  in  the  garden  of 

Eden  ? " 

"Oh,  it's  the  modern  Tree  of  Knowledge,"  laughed  Uncle 
Elisha.  "  There  was  a  pine-tree  that  had  a  box  fastened  to  it  for 
letters,  and  the  mails  used  to  get  carried  forward  in  that  way. 
I  suppose  folks  thought  the  letters  were  all  full  of  wisdom,  at 
least  those  they  did  n't  write  themselves.  I  don't  write  many  let- 
ters myself,  nor  get  many.  Perhaps  an  apple  's  about  as  good  a 
way  to  get  knowledge  as  a  letter  is ; "  and  with  that  Uncle 
Elisha  turned  away  and  the  stage-coach  rolled  off  with  the  Pod- 
leys  towards  Boston. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

NEWS    FROM    SCOTLAND. 

IT  seemed  rather  lonely  to  be  in  Roseland  again  and  not  to 
see  Mr.  Bodley.  The  children  began  to  look  eagerly  for  letters 
before  they  could  possibly  come.  In  those  days  there  was  no 
Atlantic  telegraph,  and  they  could  not  know  of  the  safe  arrival 
of  their  father's  steamer  for  nearly  three  weeks.  Two  of  those 
they  had  spent  at  the  Cape,  and  though  they  knew  it  was  of 
no  use,  they  began  as  soon  as  they  got  home  to  hunt  the  daily 
paper  for  news  of  the  arrival  out  of  the  Arctic,  which  was  the 
name  of  the  steamer.  The  evening  paper  was  left  by  the  car- 
rier in  a  little  covered  box  at  the  foot  of  the  avenue,  and  usu- 


THE   STUDY,    ABBOTSFORD. 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND. 


49 


ally  Nep  was  sent  down  after  it.  He  would  lift  the  lid  of  the 
box  with  his  nose,  poke  his  head  in,  seize  the  paper  and  trot  up 
the  avenue  with  it,  to  lay  it  at  his  master's  feet ;  but  now,  every 
evening  the  children  sat  in  a  row  on  the  stone  wall,  under  the 
hawthorn  hedge,  watching  for  the  boy,  and  as  soon  as  they  dis- 
covered him  they  would  rush  up  the  road,  and  the  first  one  to 
get  the  paper  had  to  race  back  to  the  house  with  the  others 


View  of  Abbotsford. 


close    behind,  in    eager  chase,  while    Nep    barked   furiously,  as   if 
he  had  been  defrauded  of  his  right. 

At  length,  on  Saturday  night,  they  were  rewarded  with  a  line 
in  the  paper  telling  of  the  arrival  of  the  Arctic  at  Liverpool, 
and  they  knew  that  now  they  should  get  letters  soon ;  the  next 
week  brought  a  short  letter  telling  of  the  voyage  over,  and  then, 
a  week  later,  came  a  longer  letter  from  Edinburgh.  Mrs.  Bodley 
read  it  aloud  to  the  family.  Part  of  it  was  of  their  father's 
visit  to  Abbotsford. 


50  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  I  took  a  little  excursion  to  Abbotsford  Wednesday,"  he  wrote, 
"  and  must  tell  you  and  the  children  of  the  house.  It  was  by 
no  means  so  fine  as  I  had  expected.  I  wish  I  could  say  it  was 
really  fine,  but,  in  spite  of  the  many  curiosities  about  it,  it 
seemed  to  me  a  made-up  hall.  I  rapped  on  the  stone  to  see  if 
it  might  not  be  pasteboard.  But  after  all  it  was  like  one  of 
Scott's  romances,  full  of  odds  and  ends  of  Scottish  antiquity, 
cleverly  put  together.  What  was  wanting  was  Scott  himself  who 
always  redeemed  his  stories  from  mere  cleverness  by  his  own 
genuine  nature,  and  who  would,  I  am  sure,  have  made  Abbots- 
ford  real  if  he  himself  had  stood  in  it  with  his  hearty  welcome. 
He  was  not  there,  but  the  place  was  kept  in  a  way  constantly 
to  remind  one  of  him.  I  went  into  his  study.  Scott  was  not 
there,  but  his  clothes  were !  In  a  glass  case  was  a  complete 
suit  worn  by  him  before  his  death,  and  in  a  little  closet  near  by 
was  his  stout  walking-stick  and  some  costumes  which  he  some- 
times wore,  I  believe.  I  did  not  care  for  them,  but  I  looked 
long  at  the  table  at  which  he  used  to  write.  There  stood  his 
easy,  stuffed  chair  drawn  up  before  it,  as  if  he  had  just  gone 
out  to  walk  with  Maida ;  upon  the  walls  were  shelves  lined  with 
the  books  which  he  used  most.  It  was  a  high  room  and  a  light 
gallery  ran  around  it,  with  a  little  flight  of  steps,  so  that  one  could 
get  at  the  books  above.  I  think  there  was  a  connection,  too,  with 
his  bed-chamber  from  it.  The  study  had  not  a  great  many  show 
things  in  it.  There  was  a  massive  silver  inkstand  upon  the  table, 
and  a  few  pictures  and  curiosities  about  the  walls.  I  liked  to  think 
of  Scott  working  there  with  no  need  to  remind  himself  of  many 
things,  for  his  head  and  his  heart  were  full  of  what  he  was  writ- 
ing ;  all  he  needed  was  table  and  chair,  pen,  ink,  and  paper. 


THE   LIBRARY,    ABBOTSFORD 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  53 

"  The  Library  was  a  more  pretentious  room.  It  had  a  carved 
oaken  roof,  and  the  walls  were  lined  with  books,  —  there  must  have 
been  twenty  thousand  there.  Over  the  fire-place  is  a  large  paint- 
ing of  Scott's  eldest  son  as  an  officer  in  the  army.  The  room  had  a 
good  many  curiosities  in  it,  presents  to  Scott  from  the  Pope,  from 
King  George  III.,  and  from  great  authors  and  others.  The  armory, 
however,  would  interest  you  most,  Nathan.  It  was  a  narrow,  arched 
room,  lighted  by  a  blazoned  window,  and  crowded  with  curiosities. 
There  was  Rob  Roy's  gun  ;  the  blunderbuss  of  Hofer,  the  Swiss  pa- 
triot ;  the  pistols  of  Napoleon,  found  in  his  carriage  after  the  battle 
of  Waterloo ;  some  thumbpins  and  boots,  with  which  the  Covenant- 
ers were  tormented,  as  you  have  read  in  "  Old  Mortality ;  "  the  two 
great  keys  of  the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  found  after  the  burning 
of  the  doors  by  the  mob,  for  which  see  "  The  Heart  of  Midlothian," 
and  many  other  things.  I  wandered  back  to  the  study.  That,  after 
all,  seemed  closest  to  Scott.  There  he  had  sat  and  written  his  won- 
derful novels.  How  I  wished  he  had  never  broken  his  heart  over 
this  costly  plaything  of  Abbotsford.  You  must  get  your  mother  to 
tell  you  about  Walter  Scott,  for  you  are  old  enough,  at  least  Ned 
and  Nathan  are,  not  only  to  read  his  stories,  but  to  care  about  the 
man  himself. 

"  I  went  to  Melrose  afterward,  and  had  a  lovely  time  in  the  ruins 
of  the  old  abbey.  It  was  at  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  when  no  vis- 
itors were  likely  to  interrupt  me.  The  young  woman  who  conducts 
people  about  had  left  me  to  myself,  and  I  lay  on  my  back  on  the 
turf,  looking  up  to  the  sky,  and  letting  my  eyes  ramble  over  the  old 
stones.  It  was  pleasant,  after  sight-seeing,  to  lie  there  and  let  my 
thoughts  wander  about  as  aimlessly  as  the  fickle  swallows  that 
darted  overhead.  The  ruins  were  all  around  me,  but  the  sky  was 


54 


MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 


best,  and  the  quiet  of  evening,  more  quiet  because  it  was  gath- 
ering about  me  in  that  deserted  sanctuary,  seemed  to  wrap  me  as 
with  a  mantle  of  rest.  I  thought  of  the  old  monks  so  long  dead, 
and  how  their  wonderful  home  was  shared  now  by  the  swallows  and 
myself.  I  am  thankful  that  so  many,  many  beautiful  old  things  are 
standing  in  this  country  for  me  to  enjoy.  I  will  leave  you,  Sarah, 
to  tell  the  children  what  Melrose  Abbey  once  was." 

Mrs.  Bodley  had  hurried 
over  this  last  part  of  the  let- 
ter, and  the  last  sentence 
slipped  off  her  tongue  before 
she  was  aware. 

"  Certainly,  Aunt  Sarah," 
said  Ned.  "We  know  what 
the  Abbey  is  now,  or  a  part 
of  it,  at  any  rate,  for  Uncle 
Charles  lay  on  his  back  in 
the  grass  and  looked  up  to 
the  sky.  I  don't  suppose  the 
monks  used  to  do  that." 

"  I  don't  know  just  what  the 
monks  had  to  do  at  Melrose, 
Ned,  but  a  good  part  of  their 
time  was  taken  up  with  re- 
ligious devotions.  Then  they 
had  their  copying  to  do,  copying  portions  of  Scripture  or  missals, 
and  doing  their  work  very  delicately,  as  if  they  loved  it.  That  was 
before  the  days  of  printing,  you  know,  when  books  had  to  be 
copied  slowly  by  the  pen." 


A   Monk  at  Work. 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  57 

"  I  've  copied  a  part  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,"  said  Nathan. 

"  If  you  had  done  as  the  monks  did,  you  would  have  made  the 
first  word,  and  especially  the  first  letter,  in  the  epistle  brilliant  with 
color,  and  have  painted  a  little  picture  about  it.  I  am  very  glad 
we  have  no  monks  about  us  in  this  country,  but  I  should  be  glad 
to  think  that  we  had  more  that  did  their  work  as  carefully  and 
with  as  much  love  for  it." 

"  How  big  the  world  is !  "  said  Lucy,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Do  you  want  to  see  papa  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  was  not  thinking  of  that,  then.  I  was  thinking  of 
Melrose  Abbey  andtthe  monks,  and" — -but  the  little  girl  was  puz- 
zled to  say  just  what  she  meant. 

"  And  how  there  was  room  for  all  that  and  Roseland,  too,"  ex- 
plained Ned,  who  saw  what  she  was  struggling  with. 

"  Yes,  that  was  it.     I  think  I  like  Roseland  best." 

"We  all  do,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "But  you  know  you  like  to  go 
to  Hyannis,  and  you  liked  our  journey  to  Newburyport  and  to 
Hartford,  because  you  liked  to  find  the  world  was  bigger  than  you 
knew  ;  but  home  's  the  best,  for  home  's  a  nest." 

When  tea  was  over,  the  children  gathered  about  Mrs.  Bodley  to 
hear  what  she  would  tell  them  of  Walter  Scott.  They  had  heard 
some  of  his  stories.  They  had  read  "  Ivanhoe,"  and  they  knew 
"  Kenilworth,"  at  least  the  older  ones  did.  Mrs.  Bodley  hesitated 
what  to  tell  them.  Then  she  reflected  that  Scott  had  himself  told 
much  of  his  life,  and  she  resolved  to  read  to  them  in  Scott's  own 
words  what  he  had  told  of  his  youth,  his  old  friends,  his  faithful  ser- 
vants. They  were  sitting  on  the  doorstep  in  the  long  twilight,  look- 
ing across  the  pleasant  fields,  and  she  took  the  book  and  read  here 
and  there  to  them,  choosing  the  parts  which  she  thought  they  would 
like  best  to  hear,  and  sometimes  putting  in  a  word  of  explanation. 


58  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"'I  was  born,  as  I  believe,  on  the  15th  August,  1771,  in  a 
house  belonging  to  my  father,  at  the  head  of  the  College  wynd.' 
That  was  in  Edinburgh.  The  wynds  were  narrow  lanes,  that 
turned,  it  may  be,  like  winding  country  lanes ;  but  they  were 
bordered  by  high,  very  high,  houses  instead  of  by  green  banks 
and  trees.  '  It  was  pulled  down,  with  others,  to  make  room  for 
the  northern  front  of  the  new  college.  I  was  an  uncommonly 
healthy  child,  but  had  nearly  died  in  consequence  of  my  first 
nurse  being  ill  of  a  consumption,  a  circumstance  which  she  chose 
to  conceal,  though  to  do  so  was  murder  to  both  herself  and  me. 
She  went  privately  to  consult  Dr.  Black,  the  celebrated  professor 
of  chemistry,  who  put  my  father  on  his  guard.  The  woman  was 
dismissed,  and  I  was  consigned  to  a  healthy  peasant,  who  is  still 
alive'  —  this  was  written  in  1808,  and  the  nurse  died  two  years 
afterward  — '  to  boast  of  her  laddie  being  what  she  calls  a  grand 
gentleman.  I  showed  every  sign  of  health  and  strength  until  I 
was  about  eighteen  months  old.  One  night,  I  have  been  often 
told,  I  showed  great  reluctance  to  be  caught  and  put  to  bed ; 
and  after  being  chased  about  the  room,  was  apprehended  and 
consigned  to  my  dormitory  with  some  difficulty.  It  was  the  last 
time  I  was  to  show  such  personal  agility.  In  the  morning  I  was 
discovered  to  be  affected  with  the  fever  which  often  accompanies 
the  cutting  of  large  teeth.  It  held  me  three  days.  On  the 
fourth,  when  they  went  to  bathe  me  as  usual,  they  discovered 
that  I  had  lost  the  power  of  my  right  leg.  My  grandfather,  an 
excellent  anatomist  as  well  as  physician,  the  late  worthy  Alexan- 
der Wood,  and  many  others  of  the  most  respectable  of  the  fac- 
ulty were  consulted.  There  appeared  to  be  no  dislocation  or 
strain ;  blisters  and  other  topical  remedies  were  applied  in  vain. 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  59 

When  the  efforts  of  regular  physicians  had  been  exhausted,  with- 
out the  slightest  success,  my  anxious  parents,  during  the  course 
of  many  years,  eagerly  grasped  at  every  prospect  of  cure  which 
was  held  out  by  the  promise  of  empirics,  or  of  ancient  ladies  or 
gentlemen  who  conceived  themselves  entitled  to  recommend  various 
remedies,  some  of  wrhich  were  of  a  nature  sufficiently  singular. 
But  the  advice  of  my  grandfather,  Dr.  Rutherford,  that  I  should 
be  sent  to  reside  in  the  country,  to  give  the  chance  of  natural 
exertion  excited  by  free  air  and  liberty,  was  first  resorted  to; 
and  before  I  have  the  recollection  of  the  slightest  event  I  was, 
agreeably  to  this  friendly  counsel,  an  inmate  in  the  farm-house 

of  Sandy-Knowe 

" '  It  is  here  at  Sandy-Knowe,  in  the  residence  of  my  paternal 
grandfather,'  —  that  is,  of  his  father's  father,  as  Dr.  Rutherford 
was  his  mother's  father,  — '  that  I  have  the  first  consciousness  of 
existence ;  and  I  recollect  distinctly  that  my  situation  and  appear- 
ance were  a  little  whimsical.  Among  the  odd  remedies  recurred 
to,  to  aid  mv  lameness,- -some  one  had  recommended  that  so  often 

%f 

as  a  sheep  was  killed  for  the  use  of  the  family,  I  should  be 
stripped,  and  swathed  up  in  the  skin,  warm  as  it  was  flayed  from 
the  carcass  of  the  animal.  In  this  Tartar-like  habiliment  I  well 
remember  lying  upon  the  floor  of  the  little  parlor  in  the  farm- 
house, while  my  grandfather,  a  venerable  old  man  with  white 

hair,  used  every  excitement  to  make  me  try  to  crawl My 

grandmother  continued  for  some  years  to  take  charge  of  the  farm,' 
after  his  grandfather's  death,  '  assisted  by  my  father's  second 
brother,  Mr.  Thomas  Scott,  who  resided  at  Crailing,  as  factor  or 
land-steward  for  Mr.  Scott  of  Danesfield,  then  proprietor  of  that 
estate My  grandmother,  in  whose  youth  the  old  Border 


60  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

depredations,'  the  forays  across  the  border  of  England  and  Scot- 
land, '  were  matters  of  recent  tradition,  used  to  tell  me  many  a 
tale  of  Watt  of  Harden,'  an  ancestor  of  his,  'Wight  Willie  of 
Aikwood,  Jamie  Telfer  of  the  fair  Dodhead,  and  other  heroes  — 
merry  men  all  of  the  persuasion  and  calling  of  Robin  Hood  and 
Little  John Two  or  three  old  books  which  lay  in  the  win- 
dow-seat were  explored  for  my  amusement  in  the  tedious  winter 
days.  Automathes,  and  Ramsay's  "  Tea-table  Miscellany,"  were 
my  favorites,  although  at  a  later  period  an  odd  volume  of  Jose- 
phus's  "  Wars  of  the  Jews "  divided  my  partiality. 

" '  My  kind  and  affectionate  aunt,  Miss  Janet  Scott,  whose 
memory  will  ever  be  dear  to  me,  used  to  read  these  works  to 
me  with  admirable  patience,  until  I  could  repeat  long  passages 
by  heart.  The  ballad  of  Hardyknute  I  was  early  master  of,  to 
the  great  annoyance  of  almost  our  only  visitor,  the  worthy  cler- 
gyman of  the  parish,  Dr.  Duncan,  who  had  not  patience  to  have 
a  sober  chat  interrupted  by  my  shouting  forth  this  ditty.  Me- 
thinks  I  now  see  his  tall,  thin,  emaciated  figure,  his  legs  cased 
in  clasped  gambadoes '  "  — 

"Gambadoes,  —  gambadoes,"  said  Ned. 

"  Leggings  for  riding,  Ned,  I  think,  — '  in  clasped  gambadoes, 
and  his  face  of  a  length  that  would  have  rivaled  the  knight  of 
La  Mancha's,  and  hear  him  exclaiming,  "  One  may  as  well  speak 
in  the  mouth  of  a  cannon  as  where  that  child  is."  ....  I  was  in 
my  fourth  year  when  my  father  was  advised  that  the  Bath 
waters  might  be  of  some  advantage  to  my  lameness.  My  affec- 
tionate aunt,  although  such  a  journey  promised  to  a  person  of 
her  retired  habits  anything  but  pleasure  or  amusement,  under- 
took as  readily  to  accompany  me  to  the  wells  of  Bladud,  as  if  she 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  61 

had  expected  all  the  delight  that  ever  the  prospect  of  a  watering- 
place  held  out  to  its  most  impatient  visitants.  My  health  was  by 
this  time  a  good  deal  confirmed  by  the  country  air,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  that  imperceptible  and  unfatiguing  exercise  to  which 
the  good  sense  of  my  grandfather  had  subjected  me ;  for  when 
the  day  was  fine  I  was  usually  carried  out  and  laid  down  beside 
the  old  shepherd,  among  the  crags  or  rocks  round  which  he  fed 
his  sheep.  The  impatience  of  a  child  soon  inclined  me  to  strug- 
gle with  my  infirmity,  and  I  began  by  degrees  to  stand,  to  walk, 
and  to  run.  Although  the  limb  affected  was  much  shrunk  and 
contracted,  my  general  health,  which  was  of  more  importance, 
was  much  strengthened  by  being  frequently  in  the  open  air ;  and, 
in  a  word,  I,  who  in  a  city  had  probably  been  condemned  to 
hopeless  and  helpless  decrepitude,  was  now  a  healthy,  high-spir- 
ited, and,  my  lameness  apart,  a  sturdy  child 

" '  At  Bath,  where  I  lived  about  a  year,  I  went  through  all  the 
usual  discipline  of  the  pump-room  and  baths,  but,  I  believe,  without 
the  least  advantage  to  my  lameness.  During  my  residence  at  Bath 
I  acquired  the  rudiments  of  reading  at  a  day  school,  kept  by  an  old 
dame  near  our  lodgings,  and  I  had  never  a  more  regular  teacher, 
although  I  think  I  did  not  attend  her  a  quarter  of  a  year.  An  occa- 
sional lesson  from  my  aunt  supplied  the  rest After  being  a 

year  at  Bath,  I  returned  first  to  Edinburgh,  and  afterwards  for  a 
season  to  Sandy-Knowe  ;  —  and  thus  the  time  whiled  away  till  about 
my  eighth  year,  when  it  was  thought  sea-bathing  might  be  of  ser- 
vice to  my  lameness.  For  this  purpose,  still  under  my  aunt's  pro- 
tection, I  remained  some  weeks  at  Prestonpans,  a  circumstance  not 
worth  mentioning,  excepting  to  record  my  juvenile  intimacy  with 
an  old  military  veteran,  Dalgetty  by  name '"  — 


62  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Dugald  Dalgetty  ! "  said  Ned.  "  He  's  in  the  '  Legend  of  Mon- 
trose.' " 

"  The  name  is,  certainly.  Scott  used  it  when  he  needed  it,  but  I 
do  not  believe  he  would  have  done  anything  to  hurt  his  old  friend's 
feelings,  for  Dalgetty,  let  me  see,  'had  pitched  his  tent  in  that  little 
village,  after  all  his  campaigns,  subsisting  upon  an  ensign's  half -pay, 
though  called  by  courtesy  a  captain.  As  this  old  gentleman,  who 
had  been  in  all  the  German  wars,  found  very  few  to  listen  to  his 
tales  of  military  feats,  he  formed  a  sort  of  alliance  with  me,  and  I 
used  invariably  to  attend  him  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  those  com- 
munications. Sometimes  our  conversation  turned  on  the  American 
war,  which  was  then  raging.' ' 

"  What,  our  war  ?  "  asked  Phippy,  "  our  war  of  the  Revolution  ?  " 

"  Yes.  '  It  was  about  the  time,'  Scott  says,  *  of  Burgoyne's  un- 
fortunate expedition,  to  which  my  captain  and  I  augured  different 
conclusions.  Somebody  had  showed  me  a  map  of  North  America, 
and,  struck  with  the  rugged  appearance  of  the  country,  and  the 
quantity  of  lakes,  I  expressed  some  doubts  on  the  subject  of  the 
general's  arriving  safely  at  the  end  of  his  journey,  which  were  very 
indignantly  refuted  by  the  captain.' ' 

"  But  Burgoyne's  expedition  did  fail." 

"  Yes,  and  so  Scott  was  right  and  Dalgetty  was  wrong.  He  went 
home  after  this,  and  was  sent  to  school,  where  he  did  not  at  first 
study  much,  but  became  a  great  favorite  with  his  companions. 
'  Among  my  companions  my  good-nature  and  flow  of  ready  imag- 
ination rendered  me  very  popular.  Boys  are  uncommonly  just  in 
their  feelings,  and  at  least  equally  generous.  My  lameness,  and  the 
efforts  which  I  made  to  supply  that  disadvantage,  by  making  up  in 
address  what  I  wanted  in  activity,  engaged  the  latter  principle  in 


WALTER   SCOTT.    BY    RAEBURN 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  65 

my  favor ;  and  in  the  winter  play  hours,  when  hard  exercise  was 
impossible,  my  tales  used  to  assemble  an  admiring  audience  round 
Lucky  Brown's  fireside,  and  happy  was  he  that  could  sit  next  to  the 
inexhaustible  narrator.  I  was  also,  though  often  negligent  of  my 
own  task,  always  ready  to  assist  my  friends,  and  hence  I  had  a  little 
party  of  staunch  partisans  and  adherents,  stout  of  hand  and  heart, 
though  somewhat  dull  of  head  —  the  very  tools  for  raising  a  hero 
to  eminence.  So,  on  the  whole,  I  made  a  brighter  figure  in  the 
yards  than  in  the  class.' ' 

"  Did  he  ever  get  over  his  lameness  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  No,  but  it  was  only  as  he  got  well  on  in  life  that  he  felt  it  seri- 
ously, at  any  rate  as  a  pain.  He  walked  a  great  deal  when  he  was 
a  boy,  in  spite  of  his  lameness.  '  My  frame,'  he  says,  '  gradually  be- 
came hardened  with  my  constitution,  and  being  both  tall  and  mus- 
cular, I  was  rather  disfigured  than  disabled  by  my  lameness.  This 
personal  disadvantage  did  not  prevent  me  from  taking  much  exer- 
cise on  horseback,  and  making  long  journeys  on  foot,  in  the  course 
of  which  I  often  wralked  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles  a  day.  A  dis- 
tinct instance  occurs  to  me.  I  remember  walking  with  poor  James 
Ramsay,  my  fellow  apprentice,  now  no  more,  and  two  other  friends, 
to  breakfast  at  Prestonpans,  We  spent  the  forenoon  in  visiting  the 
ruins  at  Seton,  and  the  field  of  battle  at  Preston  —  dined  at  Pres- 
tonpans on  tiled  haddock  very  sumptuously  —  drank  half  a  bottle 
of  port  each,  and  returned  in  the  evening.  This  could  not  be  less 
than  thirty  miles,  nor  do  I  remember  being  at  all  fatigued  upon  the 

occasion My  principal  object  in  these  excursions  was  the 

pleasure  of  seeing  romantic  scenery,  or,  what  afforded  me  at  least 
equal  pleasure,  the  places  which  had  been  distinguished  by  remark- 
able historical  events.' ' 

5 


66  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

'*  Just  our  sentiments,"  said  Ned,  nudging  Nathan  with  his  elbow. 

"  See  that  you  learn  to  tell  about  them  as  well,"  said  Mrs. 
Bodley,  and  then  she  went  on :  " '  The  delight  with  which  I  re- 
garded the  former,  of  course  had  general  approbation;  but  I 
often  found  it  difficult  to  procure  sympathy  with  the  interest  I 
felt  in  the  latter.  Yet  to  me  the  wandering  over  the  field  of 
Bannockburn  was  the  source  of  more  exquisite  pleasure  than 
gazing  upon  the  celebrated  landscape  from  the  battlements  of 
Stirling  Castle.  I  do  not  by  any  means  infer  that  I  was  dead 
to  the  feeling  of  picturesque  scenery ;  on  the  contrary  few  de- 
lighted more  in  its  general  effect.  But  I  was  unable  with  the 
eye  of  a  painter  to  dissect  the  various  parts  of  the  scene,  to 
comprehend  how  the  one  bore  upon  the  other,  to  estimate  the 
effect  which  various  features  of  the  view  had  in  producing  its 

leading    and    general    effect After    long    study    and    many 

efforts  I  was  unable  to  apply  the  elements  of  perspective  or  of 
shade  to  the  scene  before  me,  and  was  obliged  to  relinquish  in 
despair  an  art  which  I  was  most  anxious  to  practice.  But  show 
me  an  old  castle  or  a  field  of  battle,  and  I  was  at  home  at  once, 
filled  it  with  its  combatants  in  their  proper  costume,  and  over- 
whelmed my  hearers  by  the  enthusiasm  of  my  description.  In 
crossing  Magus  Moor,  near  St.  Andrews,  the  spirit  moved  me 
to  give  a  picture  of  the  assassination  of  the  Archbishop  of  St. 
Andrews  to  some  fellow  travelers  with  whom  I  was  accident- 
ally associated,  and  one  of  them,  though  well  acquainted  with 
the  story,  protested  my  narrative  had  frightened  away  his  night's 
sleep.  I  mention  this  to  show  the  distinction  between  a  sense  of 
the  picturesque  in  action  and  in  scenery Meanwhile  I  en- 
deavored to  make  amends  for  my  ignorance  of  drawing  by  adopt- 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  67 

ing  a  sort  of  technical  memory  respecting  the  scenes  I  visited. 
Wherever  I  went  I  cut  a  piece  of  a  branch  from  a  tree  —  these 
constituted  what  I  called  my  log-book ;  and  I  intended  to  have  a 
set  of  chessmen  out  of  them,  each  having  reference  to  the  place 
where  it  was  cut  —  as  the  kings  from  Falkland  and  Holyrood ; 
the  queens  from  Queen  Mary's  yew-tree  at  Crookston ;  the  bish- 
ops from  abbeys  or  episcopal  palaces ;  the  knights  from  baronial 
residences ;  the  rooks  from  royal  fortresses,  and  the  pawns  gen- 
erally from  places  worthy  of  historical  note.  But  this  whimsical 
design  I  never  carried  into  execution.' ' 

"What  a  capital  idea!  "  said  Ned.  "Why  have  not  we  thought 
of  something  of  the  kind  ?  " 

"  I  've  got  a  seal  made  out  of  John  Winthrop's  pear-tree,"  said 
Nathan. 

"  I  've  thought  of  something,"  said  Phippy,  suddenly.  "  But  I 
sha'n't  tell.  At  least  I  sha'n't  tell  now,"  and  she  shut  her  lips 
tightly  and  sealed  them  with  her  hand  to  make  sure.  "  Go  on, 
mother,"  she  gurgled  through  her  fingers. 

"  Phippy  will  keep  her  secret  till  it  breaks,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley, 
laughing,  and  taking  up  her  book  again.  "  You  see  how  Walter 
Scott,  without  knowing  it,  was  learning  all  this  time  to  tell 
stories,  for  he  loved  what  he  saw,  and  he  lived  amongst  people 
who  told  him  of  what  had  happened  right  about  him.  There  is 
a  pretty  story  which  Lockhart,  his  biographer  tells,  which  will 
show  how  industrious  he  was  in  after  years  when  he  was  writing 
his  first  famous  novel,  '  Waverley.'  Let  me  see,"  and  she  turned 
the  pages,  "  here  it  is.  '  Happening  to  pass  through  Edinburgh 
in  June,  1814,  I  dined  one  day  with  William  Menzies,  whose 
residence  was  then  in  George  Street,  situated  very  near  to,  and 


68  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

at  right  angles  with,  North  Castle  Street.  It  was  a  party  of 
very  young  persons,  most  of  them,  like  Menzies  and  myself,  des- 
tined for  the  Bar  of  Scotland,  all  gay  and  thoughtless,  enjoying 
the  first  flush  of  manhood,  writh  little  remembrance  of  the  yes- 
terday or  care  of  the  morrow.  When  my  companion's  worthy 
father  and  uncle,  after  seeing  two  or  three  bottles  go  round, 
left  the  juveniles  to  themselves,  the  weather  being  hot,  we  ad- 
journed to  a  library  which  had  one  large  window  looking  north- 
ward. After  carousing  here  for  an  hour  or  more,  I  observed 
that  a  shade  had  come  over  the  aspect  of  my  friend,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  placed  immediately  opposite  to  myself,  and  said 
something  that  intimated  a  fear  of  his  being  unwell.  "  No,"  said 
he,  "  I  shall  be  well  enough  presently,  if  you  will  only  let  me 
sit  where  you  are,  and  take  my  chair ;  for  there  is  a  confounded 
hand  in  sight  of  me  here,  which  has  often  bothered  me  before, 
and  now  it  won't  let  me  fill  my  glass  with  a  good  will."  I  rose 
to  change  places  with  him  accordingly,  and  he  pointed  out  to 
me  this  hand  which,  like  the  writing  on  Belshazzar's  wall,  dis- 
turbed his  hour  of  hilarity.  "  Since  we  sat  down,"  he  said,  "  I 
have  been  watching  it ;  it  fascinates  my  eye ;  it  never  stops ;  page 
after  page  is  finished  and  thrown  on  that  heap  of  manuscript, 
and  still  it  goes  on  unwearied ;  and  so  it  will  be  till  candles  are 
brought  in,  and  God  knows  how  long  after  that.  It  is  the  same 
every  night.  I  can't  stand  a  sight  of  it  when  I  am  not  at  my 
books."  —  "Some  stupid,  engrossing  clerk,  probably,"  exclaimed 
myself,  or  some  other  giddy  youth  in  our  society.  "No,  boys," 
said  our  host,  "  I  well  know  what  hand  it  is  — 'tis  Walter  Scott's." 
This  was  the  hand  that,  in  the  evenings  of  three  summer  weeks, 
wrote  the  last  two  volumes  of  "  Waverley." ' 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  69 

"  And  here  is  a  picture  of  Scott  at  Abbotsford  which  Washington 
Irving  has  given  us  :  — 

" '  The  noise  of  my  chaise  had  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  estab- 
lishment. Out  sallied  the  warder  of  the  castle,  a  black  grey- 
hound, and  leaping  on  one  of  the  blocks  of  stone  began  a 
furious  barking.  This  alarm  brought  out  the  whole  garrison  of 
dogs,  all  open-mouthed  and  vociferous.  In  a  little  while  the  lord 
of  the  castle  himself  made  his  appearance.  I  knew  him  at  once, 
by  the  likenesses  that  had  been  published  of  him.  He  came 
limping  up  the  gravel  walk,  aiding  himself  by  a  stout  walking- 
staff,  but  moving  rapidly  and  with  vigor.  By  his  side  jogged 
along  a  large  iron-gray  staghound  of  most  grave  demeanor,  who 
took  no  part  in  the  clamor  of  the  canine  rabble,  but  seemed  to 
consider  himself  bound,  for  the  dignity  of  the  house,  to  give  me 
a  courteous  reception.  Before  Scott  reached  the  gate,  he  called 
out  in  a  hearty  tone,  welcoming  me  to  Abbotsford,  and  asking 
news  of  Campbell.  Arrived  at  the  door  of  the  chaise,  he  grasped 
me  warmly  by  the  hand :  "  Come,  drive  down,  drive  down  to  the 
house,"  said  he;  "ye  're  just  in  time  for  breakfast, > and  afterwards 
ye  shall  see  all  the  wonders  of  the  Abbey." 

" '  I  would  nave  excused  myself  on  the  plea  of  having  already 
made  my  breakfast.  "  Hut,  man,"  cried  he,  "  a  ride  in  the  morn- 
ing in  the  keen  air  of  the  Scotch  hills  is  warrant  enough  for  a 
second  breakfast."  I  was  accordingly  whirled  to  the  portal  of  the 
cottage,'  for  this  Avas  before  the  great  hall  at  Abbotsford  had  been 
built,  i  and  in  a  few  minutes  found  myself  seated  at  the  break- 
fast-table. There  was  no  one  present  but  the  family,  which  con- 
sisted of  Mrs.  Scott ;  her  eldest  daughter,  Sophia,  then  a  fine  girl 
about  seventeen ;  Miss  Ann  Scott,  two  or  three  years  younger ; 


70  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

Walter,  a  well-grown  stripling;  and  Charles,  a  lively  boy,  eleven 
or  twelve  years  of  age.  I  soon  felt  myself  quite  at  home,  and 
my  heart  in  a  glow  with  the  cordial  welcome  I  experienced.  I 
had  thought  to  make  a  'mere  morning  visit,  but  found  I  was  not 
to  be  let  off  so  lightly.  "  You  must  not  think  our  neighborhood 
is  to  be  read  in  a  morning  like  a  newspaper,"  said  Scott ;  "  it  takes 
several  days  of  study  for  an  observant  traveler,  that  has  a  relish 
for  auld  world  trumpery.  After  breakfast  you  shall  make  your 
visit  to  Melrose  Abbey ;  I  shall  not  be  able  to  accompany  you,  as 
I  have  some  household  affairs  to  attend  to ;  but  I  will  put  you 
in  charge  of  my  son  Charles,  who  is  very  learned  in  all  things 
touching  the  old  ruin  and  the  neighborhood  it  stands  in ;  and  he 
and  my  friend  Johnnie  Bower  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth  about 
it,  with  a  great  deal  more  that  you  are  not  called  upon  to  believe, 
unless  you  be  a  true  and  nothing-doubting  antiquary.  When  you 
come  back  I  '11  take  you  out  on  a  ramble  about  the  neighborhood. 
To-morrow  we  will  take  a  look  at  the  Yarrow,  and  the  next  day 
we  will  drive  over  to  Dryburgh  Abbey,  which  is  a  fine  old  ruin, 
well  worth  your  seeing."  In  a  word,  before  Scott  had  got  through 
with  his  plan,  I  found  myself  committed  for  a  visit  of  several  days, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  a  little  realm  of  romance  was  suddenly  open 
before  me.'  I  won't  read  you  all  that  Irving  says  of  his  visit, 
but  here  is  his  account  of  a  ramble  which  he  took  with  Scott  and 
his  dogs. 

"'As  we  sallied  forth,  every  dog  in  the  establishment  turned 
out  to  attend  us.  There  was  the  old  staghound,  Maida,  that  I 
have  already  mentioned,  a  noble  animal,  and  Hamlet,  the  black 
greyhound,  a  wild,  thoughtless  youngster,  not  yet  arrived  at  the 
years  of  discretion ;  and  Finette,  a  beautiful  setter,  with  soft  silken 


NEWS  FROM   SCOTLAND.  71 

hair,  long  pendant  ears,  and  a  mild  eye,  the  parlor  favorite.  When 
in  front  of  the  house  we  were  joined  by  a  superannuated  grey- 
hound, who  came  from  the  kitchen  wagging  his  tail,  and  was 
cheered  by  Scott  as  an  old  friend  and  comrade.  In  our  walks,  he 
would  frequently  pause  in  conversation,  to  notice  his  dogs,  and 
speak  to  them  as  if  rational  companions ;  and,  indeed,  there  ap- 
pears to  be  a  vast  deal  of  rationality  in  these  faithful  attendants 
on  man,  derived  from  their  close  intimacy  with  him.  Maida.  de- 
ported himself  with  a  gravity  becoming  his  age  and  size,  and  seemed 
to  consider  himself  called  upon  to  preserve  a  great  degree  of  dignity 
and  decorum  in  our  society.  As  he  jogged  along  a  little  distance 
ahead  of  us  the  young  dogs  would  gambol  about  him,  leap  on 
his  neck,  worry  art  his  ears,  and  endeavor  to  tease  him  into  a 
gambol.  The  old  dog  would  keep  on  for  a  long  time  with  imper- 
turbable solemnity,  now  and  then  seeming  to  rebuke  the  wanton- 
ness of  his  young  companions.  At  length  he  would  make  a  sudden 
turn,  seize  one  of  them,  and  tumble  him  in  the  dust,  then  giving 
a  glance  at  us,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You  see,  gentlemen,  I  can't 
help  giving  way  to  this  nonsense ; "  would  resume  his  gravity  and 
jog  on  as  before.  Scott  amused  himself  with  these  peculiarities. 
"  I  make  no  doubt,"  said  he,  "  when  Maida  is  alone  with  these 
young  dogs,  he  throws  gravity  aside,  and  plays  the  boy  as  much 
as  any  of  them;  but  he  is  ashamed  to  do  so  in* our  company,  and 
seems  to  say :  Ha'  done  with  your  nonsense,  youngsters :  what 
will  the  laird  and  the  other  gentleman  think  of  me  if  I  give 
way  to  such  foolery  ?  " 

"  Now  I  will  read  you  just  one  more  account  by  a  traveler 
of  how  Scott  lived  at  Abbotsford.  '  The  habits  of  life  at  Abbots- 
ford,  when  I  first  saw  it,  ran  in  the  same  easy,  rational,  and  pleas- 


72  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

ant  course,  which  I  believe  they  always  afterwards  took  j  though 
the  family  was  at  this  time  rather  straitened  in  its  arrangements, 
as  some  of  the  principal  rooms  were  not  finished.  After  break- 
fast Sir  Walter  took  his  short  interval  of  study  in  the  light  and 
elegant  little  room  afterwards  called  Miss  Scott's.  That  which  he 
occupied  when  Abbotsford  was  complete,  though  more  convenient 
in  some  material  respects,  seemed  to  me  the  least  cheerful  and 
least  private  in  the  house.  It  had,  however,  a  recommendation 
which  perhaps  he  was  very  sensible  of,  that  as  he  sat  at  his  writ- 
ing-tabFe  he  could  look  out  at  his  young  trees.  About  one  o'clock 
he  walked  or  rode,  generally  with  some  of  his  visitors.  At  this 
period,  he  used  to  be  a  good  deal  on  horseback,  and  a  pleasant 
sight  it  was  to  see  the  gallant  old  gentleman,  in  his  seal-skin 
cap  and  short  green  jacket,  lounging  along  a  field-side  on  his 
mare,  Sibyl  Grey,  and  pausing  now  and  then  to  talk,  with  a  serio- 
comic look,  to  a  laboring  man  or  woman,  and  rejoice  them  with 
some  quaint  saying  in  broad  Scotch.  The  dinner  hour  was  early ; 
the  sitting  after  dinner  was  hospitably  but  not  immoderately  pro- 
longed ;  and  the  whole  family  party  (for  such  it  always  seemed, 
even  if  there  were  several  visitors)  then  met  again  for  a  short 
evening,  which  was  passed  in  conversation  and  music.  I  once 
heard  Sir  Walter  say,  that  he  believed  there  was  a  '  pair  of  cards ' 
(such  was  his  antiquated  expression)  somewhere  in  the  house,  but 
probably  there  is  no  tradition  of  their  ever  having  been  used. 
The  drawing-room  and  library  (unfurnished  at  the  time  of  my  first 
visit)  opened  into  each  other,  and  formed  a  beautiful  evening 
apartment.  By  every  one  who  has  visited  at  Abbotsford  they 
must  be  associated  with  some  of  the  most  delightful  recollections 
of  his  life.  Sir  Walter  listened  to  the  music  of  his  daughters,  which 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  75 

was  all  congenial  to  his  own  taste,  with  a  never-failing  enthusi- 
asm. He  followed  the  fine  old  songs  which  Mrs.  Lockhart  sang 
to  her  harp  with  his  mind,  eyes,  and  lips,  almost  as  if  joining 
in  an  act  of  religion.  To  other  musical  performances  he  was 
a  dutiful,  and  often  a  pleased  listener,  but  I  believe  he  cared 
little  for  mere  music ;  the  notes  failed  to  charm  him  if  they  were 
not  connected  with  good  words,  or  immediately  associated  with 
some  history  or  strong  sentiment  upon  which  his  imagination 
could  fasten.' ' 

"  I  wonder  if  he  liked  the  Blue  Bell  of  Scotland,"  said  Lucy. 

"  I  've  not  the  least  doubt  he  did,"  said  her  mother.  "  I  'm 
sure  he  must  have  heard  his  daughters  sing  it  many  a  time. 
But  the  time  was  coming  when  all  those  pleasant  evenings  were 
to  end.  Scott  had  been  buying  land  and  building  while  he  was 
writing  books ;  it  seemed  as  if  money  flowed  in  upon  him ;  but 
it  flowed  out  faster,  and  what  was  worse  he  had  long  been  lending 
money  to  men  who  were  as  careless  as  he  about  using  and  keeping 
it,  and  so  one  day  he  discovered  that  he  was  a  poor  man  owing 
also  great  sums  of  money.  I  am  not  going  to  read  you  now  how 
Scott  took  up  his  pen  again  and  began  to  work  once  more  delib- 
erately to  pay  off  his  debts.  It  is  a  sad  story,  but  one  or  two 
things  I  want  you  to  notice.  It  was  a  grievous  error  in  him  to 
be  careless  about  his  money ;  he  ought  not  to  have  got  into  debt, 
but  when  he  fairly  discovered  his  situation,  he  never  shrank  from 
toiling  month  after  month  to  pay  in  full  all  that  he  owed.  And 
this,  too,  that  much  as  he  loved  Abbotsford,  what  he  really  cared 
for  most  was  the  suffering  his  misfortunes  brought  upon  the  poor 
people  who  were  dependent  on  him.  Here  is  a  little  passage  in 
his  diary :  '  I  feel  neither  dishonored  nor  broken  down  by  the 


76  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

bad  —  now  really  bad  news  I  have  received.  I  have  walked  my 
last  on  the  domains  I  have  planted  —  sate  the  last  time  in  the 
halls  I  have  built.  But  death  would  have  taken  them  from  me 
if  misfortune  had  spared  them.  My  poor  people  whom  I  loved 
so  well ! '  and  again,  '  Poor  Will  Laidlaw,  poor  Tom  Purdie,'  those 
were  his  faithful  steward  and  servant,  'such  news  will  wring  your 
hearts ;  and  many  a  poor  fellow  besides,  to  whom  my  prosperity 
was  daily  bread.'  Now  hear  how  these  poor  people  loved  and 
served  him. 

"  Lockhart  visited  Abbotsford  in  1827.  Here  is  his  account  of 
how  things  looked  there  then :  — 

" ( The  butler,  instead  of  being  the  easy  chief  of  a  large  estab- 
lishment, was  now  doing  half  the  work  of  the  house,  at  probably 
half  his  former  wages.  Old  Peter,  who  had  been  for  five-and- 
twenty  years  a  dignified  coachman,  was  now  plowman  in  ordi- 
nary, only  putting  his  horses  to  the  carriage  upon  high  and  rare 
occasions;  and  so  on  with  all  the  rest  that  remained  of  the  an- 
cient train.  And  all,  to  my  view,  seemed  happier  than  they  had 
ever  done  before.  Their  good  conduct  had  given  every  one  of 
them  a  new  elevation  in  his  own  mind  ;  and  yet  their  demeanor 
had  gained,  in  place  of  losing,  in  simple  humility  of  observance. 
The  great  loss  was  that  of  William  Laidlaw,  for  whom  (the  estate 
being  all  but  a  fragment  in  the  hands  of  the  trustees  and  their 
agent)  there  was  now  no  occupation  here.  The  cottage  which 
his  taste  had  converted  into  a  lovable  retreat  had  found  a  rent- 
paying  tenant ;  and  he  was  living  a  dozen  miles  off,  on  the  farm 
of  a  relation  in  the  Vale  of  Yarrow.  Every  week,  however,  he 
came  down  to  have  a  ramble  with  Sir  Walter  over  their  old 
haunts,  to  hear  how  the  pecuniary  atmosphere  was  darkening  or 


GURTH  AND  WAMBA.    FROM  SCOTT'S  IVANHOE. 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND.  79 

brightening,  and  to  read,  in  every  face  at  Abbotsford,  that  it  could 
never  be  itself  again  until  circumstances  should  permit  his  re- 
establishment  at  Keeside.  All  this  warm  and  respectful  solicitude 
must  have  had  a  preciously  soothing  influence  on  the  mind  of 
Scott,  who  may  be  said  to  have  lived  upon  love.  No  man  cared 
less  about  popular  admiration  and  applause ;  but  for  the  least 
chill  on  the  affection  of  any  near  and  d6ar  to  him  he  had  the 
sensitiveness  of  a  maiden.  I  cannot  forget,  in  particular,  how 
his  eyes  sparkled  when  he  first  pointed  out  to  me  Peter  Mathie- 
son  guiding  the  plow  on  the  haugh.  "  Egad,"  said  he,  "  auld 
Pepe  "  (this  was  the  children's  name  for  their  good  friend),  "auld 
Pepe's  whistling  at  his  darg  (work).  The  honest  fellow  said  a 
yoking  in  a  deep  field  would  do  baith  him  and  the  blackies  good. 
If  things  get  round  with  me,  easy  shall  be  Pepe's  cushion." 

"  Did  he  ever  get  rich  again  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  No.  He  worked  till  his  hand  trembled  and  lost  its  cunning.  He 
did  wonders,  and  his  creditors,  moved  by  his  nobleness,  gave  him 
back  his  house  and  library.  Then  he  was  ill.  He  fancied  all 
his  debts  were  paid ;  and  his  good  friends,  tenderly  concealing 
the  truth  from  him,  ministered  to  his  comfort  and  took  him  on 
a  journey  to  Italy.  He  went  about  in  churches  and  in  picture 
galleries,  a  broken-down  old  man,  but  at  length  was  brought 
home  to  Abbotsford  to  die.  He  called  Lockhart  to  him  as  he  was 
dying :  '  My  dear,'  he  said,  '  be  a  good  man ;  be  virtuous  ;  be  relig- 
ious ;  be  a  good  man.  Nothing  else  will  give  you  any  comfort 
when  you  come  to  lie  here.' ' 

"  Did  you  see  him  when  you  were  in  Scotland  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  No,  Phippy,  he  died  in  1832,  and  it  was  a  good  many  years 
after  that  that  I  was  in  Scotland.  I  traveled  there  with  your 


80  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

father  just  after  we  were  married,  and  it  is  very  pleasant  for  me 
now  to  follow  him  in  my  mind,  though  he  will  not  go .  as  far 
north  as  we  went.  I  had  an  old  friend  who  was  living  in  the 
Highlands  and  we  went  to  visit  her.  It  was  the  late  fall  when 
we  were  there,  and  we  spent  a  good  deal  of  our  time  on  the  water, 
sailing  about  among  the  islands,  in  and  around  Skye.  We  used  to 
see  the  Highlanders  at  work,  getting  ready  for  the  winter,  gather- 
ing the  bracken  or  fern  upon  the  hillside  which  they  had  cut  and 
dried,  making  it  ready  for  winter  use.  Straw  was  scarce  and 
costly,  so  they  cut  the  bracken  on  the  barren  hillsides,  and  loaded 
their  broad  boats  with  it  and  carried  it  home  for  litter  for  their 
cattle.  The  women  helped  them,  and  it  was  a  picturesque  sight 
to  see,  as  we  sometimes  saw,  men  rowing  in  the  twilight,  while 
a  Scotch  lassie  lay  resting  on  the  great  heap  of  bracken  which 
she  had  helped  to  gather.  But  come,  it  is  growing  damp,  and 
we  must  go  in." 

So  they  all  went  in,  but  before  the  children  went  up-stairs  to 
bed,  Mrs.  Bodley  sat  at  the  piano,  and  they  all  sang  a  song  they 
knew,  —  one  which  they  were  sure  Walter  Scott  must  often  have 
heard  his  daughters  sing. 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND. 


83 


" 


QBlue  QBell"  oC 


OLD   ENGLISH    BORDER   SONG. 


Gracefully. 

-Sr 


Tune  composed  by  Mrs.  Jordan,  about  1799. 


3ES 


^S: 


-* *- 


3t= 


£3E 


1.  Oh !      where 

2.  how? 


and   oh  I  where 
tell   me      how 


is      your  High- land    lad  -  die 
is      your  High- land    lad  -  die 


1=^1 


EOTM^  ^±+4±£ 


m/ 


? 


ijii i 

rfe=    -4— »= 

z — # — 


gone  .-1 
clad? 


Oh !  where      and  oh !  where        is  your  Highland  lad-  die    gone  ?  He's 

Oh!  how?      tell  me     how         is  your  Highland  lad- die     clad?  His 


84 


MR.   BOD  LEY  ABROAD. 


r-  i^i 


gone     to    fight    the  French        for  King  George  up  -  on      the     throne,        And    it's 
DOB  -  net's   of      the    Saxon      green,  his  waist-coat's     of     the       plaid,          And    it's 


in      my    heart 
in      my    heart 


how    I      wish    him   safe       at  home! 
that     I       love     my  High  -  land  lad. 


I .  _J_ 

— &• 9r~— 


BE 

Oh !  where,       and    oh ! 
Sup  -  pose,         oh!  sup- 


dim. 


:i= 


:|=gj  E^= 


where,       did       your  High- land    lad -die    dwell? 
pose,        that      your  High  -  land    lad  should    die ! 


Oh !  where, 
Sup  -  pose, 


and    oh ! 
oh !   sup- 


NEWS  FROM  SCOTLAND. 


85 


s 

"* — 


where,         did       your  High -land    lad -die     dwell? 
-  pose,         that      your   High  -  land   lad  should   die ! 


He    dwelt    in      nier-  ry 
Though  lau  -  rels  would  wave 


,~  ~itliJ  I         1          i       I      [~ 

™_ _..9       "-I   *  m          * hH         I    3 


Scot    -     land  by  the  sign  of     The  Blue     Bell ;        And    it's        oh ! 
o'er  him,  I'd       lay    me  down  and      cry ;         And    it's         oh ! 


love       my          lad   -   die        well, 
feel       he         will       not 


'*= 


V  2d. 

ljl=^rp: 


Oh !        die. 


czz:  i 1 

t X t!ZZ~±ZZl£ZII 


dim. 


86  MR-  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    UNITED    STATES   IN   A   PASTURE. 

DURING  the  hot  August  days  the  children  often  escaped  to  the 
shade  of  the  Grove,  where  they  ensconced  themselves  in  the 
Gorge  by  the  side  of  Samson's  Nut  Cracker,  —  a  huge  boulder  on 
which  the  oak-trees  dropped  acorns,  —  and  told  stories,  or  played 
at  tea-party  or  Indians.  It  was  here,  too,  that  they  told  each 
other  their  secrets.  Whenever  one  of  them  had  a  specially  cher- 
ished secret  to  impart  to  another,  the  two  would  crawl  into  the 
deepest  recess  of  the  Gorge,  and  then  the  mysterious  thing  would 
be  decanted  from  one  little  pitcher  into  the  other.  Phippy  usu- 
ally unburdened  herself  of  her  secret  before  she  could  get  to  the 
Grove,  but  after  the  evening  when  they  had  heard  so  much  about 
Walter  Scott,  she  maintained  a  most  absorbed  air,  and  the  next 
day  before  breakfast  was  seen  running  from  one  part  of  Rose- 
land  to  another  as  if  she  were  bewitched. 

"  What  can  Phip  be  about ! "  said  Nathan,  as  the  little  girl 
came  running  up  through  the  grapery.  "  I  should  think  she  was 
playing  tag  with  the  trees,  for  she  has  been  running  from  one 
to  another  ever  since  I  have  watched  her." 

"  Perhaps  she  has  been  giving  them  some  new  names,"  said 
Lucy. 

"  She  could  n't.  There  are  no  more  States,  but  there  are  ever 
so  many  more  trees,  at  least,  if  you  count  the  little  ones." 

"  She  had  a  secret,  you  know,  last  night." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  that 's  much  of  a  secret,  to  go  round  and 


THE   UNITED   STATES  IN  A   PASTURE.  87 

play  tag  with  the  trees."  The  breakfast  bell  rang,  and  scarcely 
had  breakfast  begun,  before  Phippy  jumped  up  again,  ran  out, 
made  a  little  bow,  and  said :  — 

'•  Those  who  will  come  to  the  Gorge  after  breakfast  may  have 
a  piece  of  my  secret." 

"  Oh,  tell  it  now,  Phippy,"  said  her  cousin.  "  It  will  be  too 
hot  to  go  down  to  the  Gorge." 

"  No,  it  won't,  and  you  really  must  come,  Cousin  Ned,  because 
we  shall  need  you.  Corne,  and  I  '11  make  you  some  iced  lemon- 
ade." 

"  Oh,  I  should  n't  want  it  so  soon  after  breakfast.  But  I  tell 
you,  Phippy,  if  it  is  a  real  good  secret,  and  you  will  tell  it  to 
me  on  top  of  Samson's  Nut  Cracker,  I  '11  go,  but  it 's  too  hot  to 
be  dragged  into  the  Gorge."  So  after  breakfast  the  three  chil- 
dren went  off  to  the  Grove,  and  Ned  Adams  sauntered  along 
under  an  umbrella  a  little  later.  He  found  Nathan  and  Lucy 
already  in  possession  of  the  secret. 

"  Is  it  a  good  one  ?  "  he  asked,  critically. 

"  First  rate,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Worth  climbing  upon  the  Nut  Cracker  to  hear  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Well,  bring  the  ladder,"  said  the  lazy  fellow.  The  ladder 
was  a  board  with  cleats  nailed  to  it,  which  was  left  in  the  Secret 
Chamber,  as  it  was  called,  of  the  Gorge,  and  when  it  was  pulled 
out  it  was  laid  against  the  rock,  and  the  whole  party  climbed 
by  it  to  the  top  of  the  big  Nut  Cracker.  There  was  room  for 
all  and  a  little  to  spare. 

"  Bring  the  secret  up  too,  Phippy,  if  there  is  room." 

"  Now,   Cousin  Ned,  you   are   not   to  make   fun  of   my  secret. 


88  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

I  've  a  great  mind  not  to  tell  you ;  but  then  we  want  your 
knife,"  she  added,  reflecting. 

"  Oh  ho,  I  'm  to  do  something,  am  I  ?  " 

"  Now  listen,  and  I  '11  tell  you.  When  mamma  was  reading 
about  Walter  Scott,  and  how  he  meant  to  make  a  set  of  chess- 
men, I  had  a  sudden  thought,  and  I  could  scarcely  think  of  any- 
thing else.  I  ran  out  this  morning,  just  as  soon  as  I  was  dressed, 
to  see  if  it  would  do,  and  it  would." 

"  Took  your  thought  out  an  airing  ?  Did  you  put  it  in  the 
wheelbarrow  ?  " 

"  But  can't  you  guess,  Cousin  Ned  ?  I  've  given  you  lots  of 
hints.  Think  a  moment." 

"Oh,  it's  too  hot  to  think.     Out  with  it." 

"  I  wish  you  'd  guess." 

"Well,  is  it  a  set  of  chessmen?" 

"You're  burning." 

"Checkers?" 

"  Ned,  you  heard  me  tell  Nathan." 

"  Upon  my  word !  but  how  could  I,  Phippy.  You  had  told 
him  before  I  had  got  here." 

"  Oh,  I  told  him  right  after  breakfast.  I  could  n't  wait  to 
come  here." 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  my  happy  guess  means.  Checkers  ? 
checkers  ?  Do  you  want  to  make  some  ?  " 

"  That 's  it !  We  want  to  make  a  set  for  papa  out  of  —  what 
do  you  think?" 

"  Buttons  ?  " 

"  No.     Guess  again." 

"  Clamshells  from  every  State  in  the  Union  ?  " 


THE    UNITED  STATES  IN  A   PASTURE.  80 

"  Oh,  but  you  could  n't.  There  are  no  clamshells  in  Ken- 
tucky." 

"  Yes,  there  are,  lots  of  them.  The  annual  consumption  of 
clams  in  Kentucky  is  —  several  bushels,  according  to  the  last 
census." 

("  Now,  Ned,  you  know  you  know,  and  you  're  only  teasing  us. 
But  I  'm  going  to  tell  you.  I  won't  have  you  guessing  my  se- 
cret. We  're  going  to  cut  a  limb  off  each  State  and  make  a  set 
of  checkers  for  papa.  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  But  there  are  thirty-one  States,  and  you  only  need  twenty- 
four  checkers." l 

u  We  're  going  to  leave  out  some,"  said  Nathan.  "  That  old 
Pennsylvania,  for  one." 

"  Under  which  William  Penn  signed  the  treaty,"  said  Lucy. 
"  Why,  Nathan,  never !  "  It  is,  perhaps,  time  to  explain  that  the 
children  had  taken  it  into  their  heads  some  time  before  to  name 
thirty-one  trees  which  stdod  in  the  grove  and  orchard  after  the 
thirty-one  States,  and  Nathan  had  carved  the  initial  of  each  State 
in  the  bark  of  its  appropriate  tree.  They  had  taken  them  in  a 
rough  sort  of  relation  to  each  other.  The  Atlantic  coast  was 
represented  by  the  outside  fourteen  trees  in  the  grove,  and  the 
inland  States  were  scattered  about  in  a  somewhat  confused  way. 
One  of  their  games  was  to  make  journeys  across  the  country, 
visiting  each  other  in  remote  sections,  and  a  long  emigrant  train, 
consisting  of  the  three  children  with  carts  laden  with  household 
goods  from  Lucy's  doll-house,  accompanied  by  Nep  and  the  kitten, 
who  also  sometimes  played  the  part  of  buffaloes  or  wolves,  fre- 

1  There  were  only  thirty- one  States,  good  reader,  when  the  children  were  talking. 
Have  not  the  children  grown  up  since  then  ? 


(JO  MR.    BODLEY  ABROAD. 

quently  crossed'  the  plains  and  settled  in  the  far  West.  Such 
sorrowful  leave-takings  as  they  then  had  with  their  friends  at  the 
East,  represented  by  Lucy's  dolls,  and  such  toils  and  hardships 
when  they  came  to  settle  in  the  new  country !  The  trees  had 
become  so  identified  in  their  minds  with  the  States,  that  they 
always  spoke  of  them  by  their  names,  and  they  found  it  easy  to 
act  out  their  stories  from  history  when  they  had  such  solid  local- 
ities for  the  stage  of  their  little  drama.  They  had  landed  on 
Plymouth  Rock  and  sailed  up  the  Hudson ;  they  had  coasted  along 
Florida  and  settled  Jamestown ;  they  had  signed  a  treaty  with 
Indians  under  a  tall  oak  which  was  thus  by  an  appropriate  con- 
nection made  to  stand  for  Pennsylvania.  So  when  Nathan  pro- 
posed to  ignore  Pennsylvania  Lucy  was  naturally  indignant. 

"  But,  Lucy,"  he  explained,  "  the  branches  are  so  high  we 
could  n't  possibly  climb  up  and  cut  one  off,  and  we  don't  want 
but  twenty-four  anyway." 

"  But  you  '11  have  all  the  States  fighting,"  said  Ned.  "  Are 
you  going  to  make  twelve  eastern  States  fight  twelve  western,  or 
twelve  northern  fight  twelve  southern?"1 

"  No,"  said  Lucy,  "  we  ought  to  take  them  at  random,  with  our 
eyes  shut,  and  then  nobody  can  say  we  did  n't  play  fair.  But 
don't  you  think  it  a  good  idea,  Cousin  Ned?  You  can  saw  off  a 
little  branch  from  each  tree,  and  then  saw  it  again  so  as  to  get 
a  piece  of  wood  like  a  checker ;  it  won't  be  quite  round,  but  then 
you  can  file  it  and  cut  it  and  grind  it  on  the  grindstone,  and 
mark  it  with  the  letter  of  the  State.  Don't  you  see  ? " 

"Pat  it  and  prick  it  and  mark  it  with  T, 
And  put  it  in  the  oven  for  Tennessee," 

1  Ah,  dear  Ned,  with  your  light-hearted  just  —  ten  years  more,  and  what  did  you  see  ? 


THE    UNITED  STATES  IN  A   PASTURE.  91 

said  Ned.  "  It  seems  to  me,  though,  you  have  laid  out  work  for 
me.  Am  I  to  climb  these  trees  and  tear  my  trousers,  and  per- 
haps saw  oft'  the  limb  I  sit  on  ?  You  say,  '  You  can  saw  off  a 
branch,'  and  so  on." 

"  Hurrah  !  "  suddenly  exclaimed  Phippy,  in  great  excitement. 
"  Oh,  come  down  to  the  Gorge,  I  've  got  another  secret.  No, 
I  '11  tell  it  right  here.  Listen,  all  of  you,  and  don't  you  say  a 
word  till  I  get  through,  —  not  a  single  word.  Wait  a  minute,  I 
want  to  think.  Yes,  I  know  it  can  be  done.  Cousin  Ned  will 
know  how." 

"  Seems  to  me  Cousin  Ned  is  very  much  put  upon,"  said  that 
young  gentleman.  "  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  I  am  wanted 
at  the  house,"  and  he  began  lazily  to  rise  from  the  rock. 

"  Oh  no,  oh  no,  you  must  n't  go.  Truly  and  honestly,  it  is 
something  we  can  all  do.  Now  listen.  Don't  you  say  a  word 
till  I  get  through.  I  've  thought  of  something  splendid.  You, 
know  the  big  grass  plat  between  the  grove  and  the  orchard, 
Paul  Bodley's  Pasture,"  for  so  they  had  named  it  from  a  long 
dead  Paul  Bodley  who  had  once  owned  the  place,  and  was  buried 
in  a  little  brick  tomb  near  by,  —  "well,  that  is  just  the  best  place 
in  the  world  for  the  United  States.  These  trees  bother  us ;  but 
we  '11  draw  a  gigantic  map  of  the  United  States  in  Paul  Bodley's 
Pasture,  and  mark  it  off  into  States,  and  we  '11  have  Rocky  Mount- 
ains, and  "  — 

"  Oh,  come,  come,  Phippy,"  said  Ned  Adams,  "  you  are  going 
on  altogether  too  fast.  This  secret  is  worse  than  the  last.  Why, 
do  you  expect  me  to  draw  that  map  with  the  point  of  a  crow- 
bar ?  I  think  I  see  myself  doing  it !  " 

"  But  it  is  n't  impossible,"  urged  Phippy,  "  and  it  will  be  splen- 
did fun,  and  we  can  put  in  the  cities,  and "  — 


92  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  What  will  you  do  about  rivers  and  lakes  ?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  And  the  ocean  ?  "  added  Lucy. 

"  Where  there 's  a  will  there  's  a  way,"  persisted  Phippy,  stoutly. 
"  I  am  sure  Cousin  Ned  can  manage  somehow." 

"  Don't  think  to  flatter  me  into  such  nonsense,"  said  he ;  still 
secretly  he  was  pleased  at  Phippy's  confidence  in  his  ingenuity, 
and  he  began  to  imagine  ways  in  which  the  thing  could  be  done. 

"  There  's  about  an  acre  in  that  piece,"  he  reflected.  "  If  it 
were  winter,  Phippy,  it  would  not  be  wholly  impossible.  With  a 
good  white  coating  of  snow  we  might  hope  to  draw  a  map  and 
cut  out  the  edges,  but  your  mother  would  never  let  us  spade  up 
an  outline  to  the  map  even  if  we  wanted  to." 

"But  I  don't  see,  anyway,"  said  Nathan,  "  how  you  would  man- 
age. You  might  make  the  divisions  into  states  and  territories, 
but  you  could  n't  possibly  make  the  physical  divisions ;  you  could 
n't  make  mountains  and  rivers  and  lakes,  or  the  ocean,  as  Lucy 
says." 

"  We  could  have  frozen  rivers,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  that  would 
be  all  right  if  it  was  winter." 

"  They  would  n't  be  frozen  except  away  up  here  in  New  England," 
objected  Nathan.  "  New  England  isn't  all  the  United  States." 

"  The  Hudson  would  be  frozen,  because  Cousin  Ned  says  it  is. 
He  has  been  on  an  ice-boat  in  it  —  on  it,  I  mean.  Have  n't  you 
Cousin  Ned?" 

"  Yes,  I  've  beaten  a  railroad  train  on  one.  We  went  a  little 
faster  than  a  mile  a  minute." 

"  But  do  think  of  some  way,  Ned,"  urged  Phippy. 

"  Well,  the  only  way  I  think  of  just  now  is  to  mark  the  out- 
lines with  lime  or  some  white  flour,  and  I  don't  think  that  would 
work  very  well." 


THE    UNITED   STATES  IN  A   PASTURE.  95 

"  If  we  had  the  outline  marked,  then  we  could  run  a  plow 
along  it,"  said  Phippy,  "  except  where  the  lines  were  very  short, 
and  then  we  could  use  a  spade  or  a  sod-cutter." 

"  But  your  mother  never  would  let  us  cut  up  the  pasture  so. 
It  is  absurd." 

"  Will  you  do  it  if  mamma  will  let  us  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  'm  safe  in  promising  that."  Away  ran  Phippy  to 
the  house. 

"  Now  you  've  got  yourself  into  a  scrape,  Ned,"  said  Nathan, 
and  Ned  himself  began  to  feel  a  little  uneasy.  Presently,  Mrs. 
Bodley  came  walking  toward  them  with  Phippy,  who  was  skipping 
along  and  gesticulating  earnestly. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  cried,  as  she  came  nearer.  "  Mamma  says  we 
may,  —  she  says  we  may." 

"  What  is  this  crazy  notion  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bodley  of  Ned,  as  she 
came  to  the  rock.  "  Phippy  has  made  the  most  extraordinary 
proposition  to  draw  a  gigantic  map  on  Paul  Bodley's  Pasture,  as 
she  calls  it,  and  she  says  you  are  to  be  chief  engineer." 

"  That  depends  upon  our  getting  the  consent  of  the  Allied  Pow- 
ers," said  Ned.  "  I  told  her  I  wrould  help  her  if  you  would  consent." 

"  Oh  no,  Cousin  Ned,"  explained  Phippy.  "  You  are  to  do  it, 
and  we  are  to  help  you." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  reflecting.  "  It  would  keep 
you  all  out  of  mischief." 

"  Aunt  Sarah !  we  shall  be  getting  into  mischief  all  the  time." 

"  The  children  will  be  learning  geography,"  she  pursued,  as  if 
not  hearing  him.  "  Yes,  I  think  I  will  consent,  provided  Ned  will 
really  undertake  to  see  it  all  done,  and  provided,  also,  that  you 
will  really  finish  it  after  you  begin.  But,  Phippy,  there  is  another 


96  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

condition.  Ned's  promise  to  do  it,  if  I  would  consent,  must  count 
for  nothing.  You  must  ask  him  all  over  again,  for  he  ought  not 
•to  be  entrapped  into  this."  Phippy  looked  a  little  doubtful,  and 
Ned  put  on  a  very  stern  face  which  reassured  her.  The  fact  was, 
Ned  was  greatly  taken  with  the  idea,  arid  though  he  had  riot  be- 
lieved his  aunt  would  consent,  now  that  she  did  he  was  ready  to 
enter  into  the  scheme.  So  after  teasing  Phippy  a  little  while,  he 
consented  to  accept  the  office,  as  he  said,  of  engineer-in-chief  for 
the  construction  of  a  continent. 

Impracticable  as  the.  scheme  at  first  appeared,  the  ingenuity  of 
the  children,  headed  by  Ned,  overcame  many  difficulties.  Their 
work  was  to  draw  a  map  of  the  United  States  on  a  large  scale, 
with  a  piece  of  turf  for  the  blackboard.  They  set  about  it  in 
the  old-fashioned  way  of  map  drawing.  They  took  the  largest 
map  of  the  Union  which  they  had  and  proceeded  to  enlarge  it, 
using  its  dimensions  for  a  scale.  An  inch  of  the  map,  made 
twenty  feet.  They  laid  down  parallels  and  degrees  with  string 
which  they  fastened  to  •  pegs  outside  of  the  space  to  be  covered 
by  their  continent,  and  thus  had  easy  guides  to  the  eye.  They 
established  points  all  over  the  field,  and  by  degrees  effected  their 
outlines,  getting  into  high  glee  when,  beginning  at  different  points, 
their  lines  met  as  they  -should.  Of  course,  they  were  obliged  to 
disregard  nice  jottings,  but  they  made  the  general  coast  line  so 
true  that  Mrs.'  Bodleyj  walking  with  them  about  the  United  States, 
was  able  to  point  out  the  capes  and  bays  with  commendable 
exactness.  The  fresh-water  lakes  they  indicated  by  pieces  of  cot- 
ton cloth,  cut  in  proper  figures  and  pinned  to  the  ground  by  little 
stakes.  The  rivers  were  also  made  of  cotton  cloth,  though  it  was 
a  long  and  serious  business  to  make  them,  Phippy  devoted  her- 


THE    UNITED  STATES  IN  A   PASTURE.  97 

self  to  the  Mississippi,  and  was  a  fortnight  sewing  the  strips  to- 
gether. They  made  the  principal  cities,  using  chips  and  stones  to 
represent  buildings,  although  of  course,  on  the  scale  they  chose, 
their  cities  were  liable  to  be  out  of  proportion  however  carefully 
they  reduced  the  materials.  Mr.  Bottom  was  harnessed  to  a  plow 
and  did  actually  make  the  coast-line.  The  children  thought  the 
ridge  of  earth  outside  the  Union  would  answer  very  well  for  the 
wavy  lines  which  they  found  on  their  maps  to  indicate  the  sep- 
aration of  land  and  water.  The  spade  and  cutter  were  used  also, 
and  they  actually  made  some  very  respectable  mountains  by  mold- 
ing 'clay. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  all  this  was  done  quickly.  They 
spent  the  rest  of  the  summer  upon  it,  and  long  before  their 
great  map  was  made  they  were  playing  their  old  games  with  fresh 
zest.  There  was  great  fun  in  crossing  the  continent  now,  and 
they  brought  out  from  the  barn  the  Koseland  and  Santa  Fe  Rail- 
road which  Hen  had  made  for  them  the  year  before,  and  as  they 
could  move  it  about  they  made  it  do  service  in  all  parts  of  the  con- 
tinent and  under  all  manner  of  names,  according  as  they  wished 
to  travel  north  or  south,  east  or  west.  It  required  a  great  deal 
of  patience,  and  perhaps  this  was  what  Mrs.  Bodley  had  partly 
in  mind  when  she  gave  her  consent  so  readily.  The  children  cer- 
tainly learned  also  a  great  deal  of  geography  and  the  great  past- 
ure was  to  them  a  vast  object  lesson. 

One  afternoon  as  they  were  all  sitting  by  the  library  door,  which 
opened  under  a  honeysuckle  porch  upon  a  grassy  bank,  resting  from 
their  labors  and  feeling  perhaps  a  little  discouraged,  Nathan  gave 
a  sigh,  and  said  :  — 

I  wish  we  had  a  balloon  and  could  get  up  high  enough  to  take 

7 


o 
tt 


98 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  United  States.  We  can't  see  it  from  the 
upper  story  of  the  house,  and  there  is  no  tree  high  enough  to 
climb  and  look  down  on  it.  I  just  want  to  see  how  it  really 
looks." 

"  If  you  were  in  a  balloon,  you  could  come  down  in  a  parachute, 
you  know,"  said  Lucy,  looking  slyly  at  her  brother.  Nathan 
turned  a  little  red.  He  had  not  forgotten  how,  three  years  or 
so  before,  he  had  played  the  part  of  Professor  Wise  and  under- 
taken to  jump  off  the  pig-pen,  and  how  he  had  kept  a  sprained 

ankle  some  time  to 
remind  him  of  his  ex- 
ploit. 

"  I  wonder  if  they 
ever  will  make  balloons 
that  one  can  travel  in 
just  as  now  we  take  a 
ship,"  said  Ned  ;  "  or, 
if  we  shall  have  private 
balloons,  and  you  would 
say,  for  instance,  4  Mar- 
tin, please  bring  round 
the  old  balloon,  it 's 
rather  wet  to-day,  and 
I  'm  going  to  town ;  I 
I!  don't  want  to  hurt  the 


Early   Balloon. 


new  one. 

"  It  won't  be  for  want 
of  trying,  at  any  rate. 


People  have  been  experimenting  on  balloons  for  a  long  while." 


THE    UNITED   STATES  IN  A   PASTURE. 


99 


"Ever  since  Icarus  and  Daedalus,"  said  Ned. 

"  That  was  an  experiment  in  flying.     I  believe  the  first  actual 
balloon  was  made  by 
two   brothers   named 
Montgolfier,     paper 
makers,    who    showed 
that  bags  of  linen  lined 
with  paper  and  filled 
with  heated  air  would 
rise   and  carry  heavy  | 
weights    with    them.  I 
Then  a  great  balloon  \ 
of   cloth   was   filled  I 
with  hot  air  and  was  | 
sent  up  before  an  im-  | 
mense     multitude,  j 
They  inflated  the  bal-  g 
loon   by    burning 
chopped      straw     and 
wool  under  the   aper- 
ture.      The    court   at 
Versailles  took  a  great 
interest  in  the  experi- 
ments,  and   a  balloon 
sixty  feet  high  was 
made,  which  was  dec- 
orated   with    water-  The  First  Balloon  Voyage< 
color  paintings,  and  a  car  was* hung  below  it,  in  which  were  placed 
a  cock,  a  sheep,  and  a  duck.     They  don't  seem  to  have  quarreled. 


100 


MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 


At  any  rate  they  all  came  safely  back,  after  having  been  up  about 
fourteen  hundred  feet  and  sailing  about  two  miles  from  where  they 
went  up.  People  began  to  go  wild  over  ballooning,  and  in  a  few 
months  a  young  Frenchman,  Pilatre  des  Roziers,  made  a  balloon  and 
said  he  would  go  up  himself  in  it.  He  had  it  securely  fastened  by 
eighty  feet  ropes,  for  men  were  not  yet  ready  to  cut  loose  from 
the  earth,  and  he  made  several  ascents.  He  kept  the  air  heated 

by  a  fire  built  upon  a  grating  of  wire  in 
|  the  car.     At  length  he  ventured  to  try 
I  a  journey  without  the  ropes,  so  he  got 
J  into  the   car  with  a  companion,  kindled 
I  his  fires,  and  away  they  went  half  a  mile 
HJj  up  and  floated  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
[  away.     That  was   a  great   feat,   and  he 
kept  on ;  but  one  day  when  he  was  up 
in  the  air  with  a  Mr.  Romane   the  fire 
caught  the  balloon  and  it  was  burned." 
"  But  they  don't  make  balloons  go  by 
fire  now,  do  they  ? "  asked  Lucy. 

"  No,  people  learned  to  fill  balloons 
with  hydrogen  gas,  and  they  became  more 
and  more  adventurous.  Only  three  years 
after  balloons  were  invented  two  men 
sailed  across  the  English  Channel.  The  great  trouble  now  seems 
to  be  to  steer  the  balloon  so  as  to  make  it  independent  of  the  cur- 
rents of  wind." 

"  I  never  understood   how  a  parachute  worked,"    said   Nathan. 
"  I  know  it  is  something  like  an  umbrella." 

"  An  umbrella  is  the  nearest  and  simplest  account  of  it.     When 


A  Parachute  closed 


THE    UNITED   STATES  IN  A   PASTURE. 


101 


the  balloon  is  in  motion  the  parachute,  I  believe,  is  like  a  shut-up 
umbrella,  with  a  car  attached.  If  you  were  to  jump  off  the  house 
with  an  enormous  umbrella  held  aloft,  not  caught  at  the  spring, 
the  air,  I  suppose,  would  force  the  folds  up  and  open  the  umbrella 
wide,  when  you  would  begin  to  descend  more  slowly.  It  is  some- 
thing thus  with  a  parachute.  When  it  is  detached  from  the  bal- 
loon I  believe  the  air  opens  it  and  it  becomes  a  great  umbrella." 

"I  think  I  should  be 
careful  to  open  my  um- 
brella before  I  jumped," 
said  Ned. 

"Yes,"  said  Phippy, 
"  and  then  think  how  you 
would  clutch  the  handle  !  " 

"  People  who  come  down 
in  parachutes,"  said  her 
mother,  "  are  in  a  basket, 
and  probably  sit  very  still. 
I  believe  the  descent  at 
first  is  fearfully  swift,  but 
becomes  slower  after  the 
parachute  is  fairly  opened. 
There  was  a  descent  made 
once  in  a  parachute  from  a  height  of  twelve  hundred  feet." 

"  Whew !  more  than  five  times  the  height  of  Bunker  Hill  Mon- 
ument. I  should  want  to  hang  a  lot  of  little  umbrellas  and  para- 
sols all  about.  Do  you  suppose,  aunt,  they  will  ever  cross  the 
Atlantic  in  balloons  ?  " 

"  I  should  not  dare  to  say  what  might  not  be  done  some  day." 


A   Parachute  open. 


102  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  How  fine  it  would  be,"  said  Phippy,  "  to  see  father  sail  down 
gracefully  into  our  garden  !  " 

"  Or  even    cross   the    continent,"   added  Nathan.      "  We    might 
almost  go  over  that  with  an  umbrella  in  a  high  wind." 
*  "  We  must  get  the  United  States  done  before  he  comes  back," 
said  Lucy.      "  You  have  n't  written  him  anything  about  it,  have 
you,  mamma  ?  " 

"  No,  we  will  keep  it  for  a  surprise  for  him."  So  the  children 
went  back  to  their  work.  Indeed,  it  was  so  engrossing  an  occu- 
pation that  they  had  agreed  to  give  up  the  idea  of  making  a  set 
of  checkers. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN   THE    LOW    COUNTRIES. 

WHILE  the  Bodley  children  were  traveling  ov*r  their  own  coun- 
try in  Paul  Bodley's  Pasture,  Mr.  Bodley  himself  was  following 
his  business,  which  kept  him  some  time  in  London,  and  then  was 
to  take  him  to  the  Continent.  Every  week  brought  a  letter  from 
him  and  was  read  aloud  in  the  family,  often  with  the  atlas  upon 
the  table,  that  the  children  might  trace  their  father's  wanderings. 
He  was  spending  Sunday  in  Antwerp,  and  wrote  thence  of  his  re- 
cent journey. 

" (  The  last  day  I  was  in  London  I  had  occasion  to  call  on  an  old 
gentleman,  who  is  quite  poor  but  a  scholar,  and  lives  in  the  garret 
of  a  house  in  one  of  the  densest  quarters  of  the  city.  I  climbed 
the  dark  staircase  to  his  room  and  knocked,  but  no  one  answered. 


A    LONDON    GARDEN. 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  105 

I  tried  the  door,  and  finding  it  open,  entered,  but  did  not  see  my 
friend.  There  was  another  door,  however,  which  stood  ajar,  and 
light  came  down  it  from  above.  I  went  there,  saw  a  rude  ladder 
leading  up  to  a  sky-light,  and  climbing  that,  there  I  found  Mr. 
Jephson  upon  the  roof,  in  a  snug  corner  formed  by  a  projecting 
dormer  window,  standing  before  a  rude  frame  in  which  he  had 
some  flowers.  All  about  him  were  flowers  in  pots  and  boxes.  It 
was  his  garden,  and  here  he  came  and  worked  over  his  beloved 
flowers ;  the  city  roared  below,  but  the  sun  shone  above,  and-  you 

can  imagine  what  a  charming  sight  it  was  to  me 

"  '  It  was  Friday  morning  that  I  came  upon  the  Continent.  I 
had  taken  a  steamer  from  Dover  to  Ostend,  having  left  Dover  at 
half  after  ten  the  night  before.  It  was  raining  hard  and  seemed 
dreary  enough.  The  only  people  who  were  awake,  apparently, 
were  a  man  and  his  little  son,  who  accosted  me  as  I  left  the 
steamer,  and  were  so  unceasing  in  their  attentions  that  they  never 
left  my  side  till  I  got  into  the  station  and  took  the  seven  o'clock 
train  for  Bruges.  I  spent  the  day  there,  and  went  on  to  Ghent  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon,  coming  here  yesterday  evening. 
All  this  country  is  familiar  ground  to  you,  Sarah,  and  I  am  con- 
stantly reminded  of  our  excursions  and  the  sights  we  saw.  I  saw 
again  that  wonderful  picture  at  Ghent  of  the  Adoration  of  the  Larnb, 
by  the  brothers  Van  Eyck.  I  was  delighted  to  see  how  well  I 
remembered  it.  That  heavenly  green  sward  of  the  central  picture, 
besprinkled  with  gem-like  daisies,  —  how  entirely  truthful  it  seems. 
Then  the  figures  are  grouped  so  negligently,  without  any  attempt 
at  placing  them  in  easy  positions  or  balancing  them  against  each 
other.  They  are  all  intent  on  their  worship  of  the  Lamb.  The  St. 
Cecilia  came  back  to  me  also  with  her  absorbed  devotion.'  " 


106  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Is  that  our  St.  Cecilia  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  Yes,  that  photograph  is  one  which  we  bought  when  we  were 
at  Ghent." 

" i  I  heard  the  carillon,  too,  again  from  the  high  towers,  and  to 
my  delight  the  Bruges  belfry  gave  out  that  old  tune  of  "  Life  let 
us  cherish,"  which  we  heard  so  constantly.  Then  I  went,  in  Ghent, 
to  see  the  Beguines  at  evening  prayer.' ' 

"  What  are  Beguines  ?  "  asked  Nathan. 

"  They  are  a  community  of  nuns,  or  sisters  of  charity,  founded 
early  in  the  thirteenth  century,  who  occupy  a  large  district  in 
Ghent.  We  missed  going  to  see  them  for  some  reason,  so  let  us 
hear  what  your  father  saw." 

"  '  The  service  was  less  impressive  than  I  had  been  given  to  sup- 
pose, but  quite  interesting.  There  were  three  or  four  hundred 
sisters,  most  of  them  in  black  gowns  with  white  cloth  head-dresses, 
kneeling  in  rows  in  the  white  chapel,  while  two  stood  in  the 
chancel  and  rang  two  bells.  They  w^ere  wholly  in  black,  and  had 
a  singular  aspect  from  where  I  sat.  Black-robed  figures  kneeling, 
with  white  veils,  are  not  so  strange  as  two  pulling  at  ropes,  like 
goblins.  I  think  it  was  the  motion  that  made  them  look  so  queer. 
One  was  not  so  absorbed  in  her  devotions  but  that  she  could  find 
time  to  take  a  good  pinch  of  snuff.  The  priest  came  to  the  altar, 
and  a  monotonous  and  disagreeable  chanting  was  kept  up  with  the 
organ  in  the  loft,  all  done  by  the  sisters,  one  of  whom  worked  the 
bellows.  When  the  service  was  over,  each  advancing  to  the  altar 
bowed,  took  off  the  white  cloth  that  hung  over  her  head  and 
shoulders,  as  if  it  were  to  be  used  only  in  the  chapel,  folded  it  in 
a  square,  laid  it  on  top  of  her  head,  and  went  out.' ' 

There  was  more  in  the  letter,  but  it  was  chiefly  of  interest  to 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES. 


107 


Mrs.  Bodley.  The  children  continued  to  study  their  map  and  look 
at  the  photographs  which  illustrated  their  father's  and  mother's 
journey,  and  were  always  a  source  of  entertainment  to  them. 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  Belgium,"  said  Ned,  frankly,  "  and 
I  wish  Uncle  Charles  had  told  us  more  about  his  journey  from 
Ostend  to  Antwerp,  but  I 
suppose  he  has  n't  much  time 
for  letters.  Aunt  Sarah,  we 
shall  have  to  fall  back  on 
your  first  journey." 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
will  do,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley, 
who  had  taken  up  her  sew- 
ing. '''There  is  a  charming 
poem  by  Longfellow,  called 
<The  Belfry  of  Bruges.'  If 
you  will  all  learn  that  poem? 
—  and  it  is  not  long,  —  I  will 
try  to  tell  you  about  some  of 
the  lines  in  it  which  you  may 
not  understand."  I  am  glad 
to  say  that  the  children  were 
very  ready  to  learn  the  verses, 
for  I  am  sure  that  there  are 

f  ,1  Belfry  of   Bruges. 

lew  treasures  worth  more  to 

us  than  those  we  store  in  our  memories.  Often  and  often  Ned  and 
Nathan,  and  Phippy  and  Lucy,  in  after  life,  when  traveling,  per- 
haps, in  the  night,  or  left  where  there  were  no  books  and  little  to 
interest  them,  would  bring  out  some  poem  or  ballad  which  they  had 


108  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

cherished  in  childhood,  and  amuse  themselves  with  reciting  it.  So 
now,  the  very  next  evening  they  were  ready  with  the  poem.  Be- 
fore they  recited  it,  Mrs.  Bodley  said  :  — 

"  First,  I  will  recite  the  '  Carillon,'  as  he  calls  it,  with  which  Mr. 
Longfellow  introduces  his  poem.  You  know  that  chimes  or  caril- 
lons were  invented  in  the  Low  Countries ;  they  were  heard  in 
Bruges  as  early  as  1300,  and  now,  wherever  you  go,  you  hear 
them  almost  incessantly.  There  are  persons  skilled  in  the  art  who 
play  the  chimes,  not  by  pulling  ropes,  but  by  means  of  a  great 
key-board,  like  that  of  a  piano,  the  keys  of  which  connect  with 
the  hammers  that  strike  the  bells.  The  musician  strikes  .the  keys 
not  with  his  fingers  but  with  his  fists,  which  are  guarded  by  leathern 
coverings,  and  though  great  force  is  required,  —  sometimes  equal 
to  two  pounds'  weight  on  each  key,  —  musicians  have  acquired 
great  skill  in  playing  on  these  colossal  instruments ;  they  can, 
indeed,  play  music  in  three  parts, —  the  bass  being  played  on 
pedals,  and'  the  first  and  second  trebles  with  the  hands.  But  the 
carillons  are  more  frequently  played  by  clock-work,  and  are  con- 
structed something  like  a  gigantic  music-box,  with  the  tunes  changed 
every  year.  When  they  are  hung  away  up  in  the  great  belfry 
towers  the  music  sounds  very  pure  and  sweet.  Here  is  the  carillon 
which  Mr.  Longfellow  rang.  I  have  not  forgotten  it,  I  am  sure, 
for  I  learned  it  at  Bruges  itself." 

o 

CARILLON. 

In  the  ancient  town  of  Bruges, 

O        ' 

In  the  quaint  old  Flemish  city, 
As  the  evening  shades  descended, 
Low  and  loud  and  sweetly  blended, 


72V   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  1Q9 

Low  at  times,  and  loud  at  times, 
And  changing  like  a  poet's  rhymes, 
Rang  the  beautiful  wild  chimes 
From  the  Belfry  in  the  market 
Of  the  ancient  town  of  Bruges. 

Then  with  deep  sonorous  clangor 
Calmly  answering  their  sweet  anger, 
When  the  wrangling  bells  had  ended, 
Slowly  struck  the  clock  eleven. 
And,  from  out  the  silent  heaven, 
Silence  on  the  town  descended. 
Silence,  silence  everywhere, 
On  the  earth  and  in  the  air, 
Save  that  footsteps  here  and  there 
Of  some  burgher  home  returning, 
By  the  street  lamps  faintly  burning, 
For  a  moment  woke  the  echoes 
Of  the  ancient  town  of  Bruges. 

But  amid  my  broken  slumbers 
Still  I  heard  those  magic  numbers, 
As  they  loud  proclaimed  the  flight 
And  stolen  marches  of  the  night  ; 
Till  their  chimes  in  sweet  collision 
Mingled  with  each  wandering  vision, 
Mingled  with  the  fortune-telling 
Gipsy-bands  of  dreams  and  fancies, 
Which,  amid  the  waste  expanses 
Of  the  silent  land  of  trances, 
Have  their  solitary  dwelling. 
All  else  seemed  asleep  in  Bruges, 
In  the  quaint  old  Flemish  city. 

And  I  thought  how  like  these  chimes 
Are  the  poet's  airy  rhymes, 
All  his  rhymes  and  roundelays, 
His  conceits,  and  songs  and  ditties, 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

From  the  belfry  of  his  brain, 
Scattered  downward,  though  in  vain, 
On  the  roofs  and  stones  of  cities  ! 
For  by  night  the  drowsy  ear 
Under  its  curtains  cannot  hear, 
And  by  day  men  go  their  ways, 
Hearing  the  music  as  they  pass, 
But  deeming  it  no  more,  alas  ! 
Than  the  hollow  sound  of  brass. 

Yet  perchance  a  sleepless  wight, 

Lodging  at  some  humble  inn 

In  the  narrow  lanes  of  life, 

When  the  dusk  and  hush  of  night 

Shut  out  the  incessant  din 

Of  daylight  and  its  toil  and  strife, 

May  listen  with  a  calm  delight 

To  the  poet's  melodies, 

Till  he  hears,  or  dreams  he  hears, 

Intermingled  with  the  song, 

Thoughts  that  he  has  cherished  long ; 

Hears  amid  the  chime  and  singing 

The  bells  of  his  own  village  ringing, 

And  wakes  and  finds  his  slumberous  eyes 

Wet  with  most  delicious  tears. 

• 
Thus  dreamed  I,  as  by  night  I  lay 

In  Bruges,  at  the  Fleur-de-Ble, 
Listening  with  a  wild  delight 
To  the  chimes  that,  through  the  night, 
Rang  their  changes  from  the  Belfry 
Of  that  quaint  old  Flemish  city. 

"  Now  let  us  try  a  recitation  in  chorus  of  the  '  Belfry  of  Bruges.' ' 
Mrs.  Bodley  waved  her  wooden  knitting-needle   about  in  the  air, 
like  the  conductor  of  an  orchestra,  and  Ned  and  the  three  children 
kept  pretty  even  pace  through  — 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  HI 


THE  BELFRY  OF  BRUGES. 

BY    HENRY   W.   LONGFELLOW. 

In  the  market-place  of  Bruges  stands  the  belfry  old  and  brown  ; 

Thrice  consumed  and  thrice  rebuilded,  still  it  watches  o'er  the  town.         * 

As  the  summer  morn  was  breaking,  on  that  lofty  tower  I  stood, 
And  the  world  threw  off  the  darkness,  like  the  weeds  of  widowhood. 

Thick  with  towns  and -hamlets  studded,  and  with  streams  and  vapors  gray, 
Like  a  shield  embossed  with  silver,  round  and  vast  the  landscape  lay. 

At  my  feet  the  city  slumbered.     From  its  chimneys  here  and  there, 
Wreaths  of  snow-white  smoke  ascending,  vanished,  ghost-like,  into  air. 

Not  a  sound  rose  from  the  city  at  that  early  morning  hour, 
But  I  heard  a  heart  of  iron  beating  in  the  ancient  tower. 

From  their  nests  beneath  the  rafters  sang  the  swallows  wild  and  high  ; 
And  the  world,  beneath  me  sleeping,  seemed  more  distant  than  the  sky. 

Then  most  musical  and  solemn,  bringing  back  the  olden  times, 
With  their  strange,  unearthly  changes  rang  the  melancholy  chimes, 

Like  the  psalms  from  some  old  cloister,  when  the  nuns  sing  in  the  choir  ; 
And  the  great  bell  tolled  among  them,  like  the  chanting  of  a  friar. 

Visions  of  the  days  departed,   shadowy  phantoms  filled  my  brain ; 
They  who  live  in  history  only  seemed  to  walk  the  earth  again ; 

All  the  Foresters  of  Flanders,  —  mighty  Baldwin  Bras  de  Fer, 
Lyderick  du  Bucq  and  Cressy,  Philip,   Guy  de  Dampierre. 

I  beheld  the  pageants  splendid  that  adorned  those  days  of  old  ; 

Stately  dames,  like  queens  attended,  knights  who  bore  the  Fleece  of  Gold  ; 


MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

Lombard  and  Venetian  merchants  with  deep-laden  argosies ; 
Ministers  from  twenty  nations  ;  more  than  royal  pomp  and  ease. 

I  beheld  proud  Maximilian,  kneeling  humbly  on  the  ground  ; 
I  beheld  the  gentle  Mary,  hunting  with  her  hawk  and  hound; 

And  her  lighted  bridal-chamber,  where  a  duke  slept  with  the  queen, 
And  the  armed  guard  around  them,  and  the  sword  unsheathed  between. 

I  beheld  the  Flemish  weavers,  with  Namur  and  Juliers  bold, 
Marching  homeward  from  the  bloody  battle  of  the  Spurs  of  Gold  ; 

Saw  the  fight  at  Minnewater,  saw  the  White  Hoods  moving  west, 
Saw  great  Artevelde  victorious  scale  the  Golden  Dragon's  nest. 

And  again  the  whiskered  Spaniard  all  the  land  with  terror  smote  ; 
And  a^ain  the  wild  alarum  sounded  from  the  tocsin's  throat; 

o 

Till  the  bell  of  Ghent  responded  o'er  lagoon  and  dike  of  sand, 
"I  am  Roland  !    I  am  Roland  !  there  is  victory  in  the  land  !" 

Then  the  sound  of  drums  aroused  me.     The  awakened  city's  roar 
Chased  the  phantoms  I  had  summoned  back  into  their  graves  once  more. 

Hours  had  passed  away  like  minutes  ;   and,  before  I  was  aware, 
Lo  !   the  shadow  of  the  belfry  crossed  the  sun-illumined  square. 

"  So  the  poet,  you  see,  stayed  in  the  belfry  tower  all  day,"  said 
Mrs.  Bodley,  "  and  you  see  what  a  wide  stretch  of  country  he  looked 
over.  The  Flemish  country  is  low  and  flat,  and  from  the  tower 
one  can  see  the  ocean  line  at  Ostend,  and  as  far  as  Ghent,  which 
is  twenty-seven  miles  away.  All  over  the  country  are  scattered 
famous  buildings,  lofty,  with  towers  and  spires,  called  Town  Halls 
(Hotels  de  Ville).  Perhaps  the  one  with  the  most  beautiful  spire 
is  that  at  Brussels,  and  these  buildings  with  spires  and  bell-towers 
indicate  the  wealth  and  power  that  once  resided  in  the  cities,  just 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  113 

as  cathedrals  show  how  rich  and  powerful  was  the  church  that  built 
them.  They  were  not  built  in  a  day,  and  though  now  they  seem 
almost  deserted,  they  are  monuments  of  a  historic  time.  In  Bruges, 
for  instance,  the  belfry  tower  surmounts  Les  Halles,  which  was  the 
great  market  of  the  town.  .  '  Thrice  consumed  and  thrice  re- 
builded,'  the  poet  says ;  I  cannot  quite  make  that  out,  but  it  tells 
the  story  of  the  increased  wealth  of  the  place.  Far  back  in  the 
eleventh  century  there  was  a  wooden  bell-tower  there.  It  was 
burned  in  1280  and  the  foundations  of  this  tower  laid  in  1291. 
Upon  the  very  tip  top  was  a  lofty  spire  which  was  struck  by  light- 
ning in  1493  and  rebuilt  in  1502." 

"  That 's  twice  consumed  and  twice  rebuilded,"  said  Ned,  count- 
ing. 

"  Well,  the  spire  was  burned  again  in  1741." 

"  Thrice  consumed." 

"  But  never  rebuilded,  but  instead  a  low  parapet  took  its  place." 

"  That  was  the  third  time." 

"  We  shall  have  to  play  it  made  the  thrice  rebuilded,  to  agree 
with  the  poet's  line." 

"  But,  mamma,"  asked  Phippy,  "how  came  the  people  to  build 
these  great  halls  and  towers  ?  " 

"  It  was  because  the  people,  or  rather  the  towns  in  Flanders  grew 
powerful  by  manufacturing  and  commerce,  and  were  able  to  hold 
their  own  against  noblemen  and  petty  princes.  All  along  the  shores 
of  the  North  Sea  were  fishing  and  trading  villages,  and  inland  the 
weavers  wove  from  the  flax  which  grew  on  the  plains.  They  car- 
ried on  trade  with  England  and  with  the  Mediterranean,  and  began 
to  gather  riches.  The  weavers  and  other  artisans  formed  guilds 
which  combined  to  protect  their  interests.  The  noblemen  who 


114  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

claimed  to  rule  over  them  were  all  the  while  getting  impoverished 
by  their  wars  and  their  costly  living,  and  when  they  wanted  more 
money  they  got  it  from  these  towns  by  giving  up  to  them  certain 
rights  of  government.  So,  little  by  little  the  towns  gained  the  power 
which  the  earls  and  counts  had,  and  as  a  count  built  a  castle,  so  the 
town  built  a  public  hall.  They  hung  bells  in  the  towers  to  call 
the  people  together,  and  the  government  of  the  city  showed  its 
dignity  and  splendor  by  holding  its  meetings  in  splendid  halls. 
See,  in  this  picture,  what  a  rich  one  they  built  at  Louvain,  perhaps 
the  most  richly  decorated  building  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  and 
others  were  scarcely  less  magnificent.  We  see  them  now  as  show 
places,  but  once  they  were  signs  of  a  great  municipal  and  commer- 
cial power.  Why,  at  one  time,  in  what  is  now  the  quiet  dreamy 
town  of  Bruges,  when  the  bell  rang  for  work  to  cease,  at  the  end 
of  the  day,  fifty  thousand  workmen  tramped  over  the  bridges,  and 
the  law  forbade  the  draws  to  be  raised  at  that  hour.  You  can  guess 
that  something  like  this  was  in  the  poet's  mind  when  he  says,  '  At 
my  feet  the  city  slumbered.'  To  be  sure,  it  was  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  he  wants  to  put  a  great  silence  between  the  present  and 
the  past  to  make  us  feel  more  strongly  the  activity  and  rush  of 
the  old  times." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lucy,  "  and  then  he  wakes  up  suddenly  and  sees  — 

'  All  the  Foresters  of  Flanders  —  mighty  Baldwin  Bras  de  Fer, 
Lyderick  du  Bucq  and  Cressy,  Philip,  Guy  de  Dampierre.' 

Who  were  all  these  people,  mamma  ? " 

"  In  those  two  lines  Longfellow  has  gone  with  a  hop,  skip,  and 
jump  down  the  centuries  of  Flemish  history,  from  the  people  who 
inhabited  the  vast  forests  of  the  earliest  times,  to  Baldwin  Iron  Arm, 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  115 

• 

the  first  Count  of  Flanders,  in  the  ninth  century,  who  brought  his 
bride  Judith  to  his  strong  fort  here  and  made  it  his  chief  seat." 

"  Then  there  were  the  '  pageants  splendid,'  "  said  Lucy.  "  What 
was  the  Fleece  of  Gold  ?  Was  it  Jason's  Fleece  ?  " 

"  It  was  an  order  of  knights  instituted  at  Bruges  in  1429  by 
the  Philip  we  have  just  heard  of,  when  he  was  married  to  Isabella 
of  Portugal.  He  had  by  inheritance  and  purchase  acquired  au- 
thority over  some  of  the  richest  cities  and  provinces  of  the  Nether- 
lands ;  indeed,  almost  the  whole  country  was  united  under  him. 
He  stood  equal  with  kings  and  emperors,  and  when  he  established 
the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  he  limited  the  number  of  mem- 
bers to  twenty-five,  and  made  it  a  condition  that  these  members 
should  belong  to  no  other  order;  it  included  emperors,  kings, 
princes,  and  nobles,  and  was  a  singular  illustration  of  the  half- 
religious,  half -commercial  sentiment  of  the  place  and  time.  Each 
knight  wore  suspended  at  his  breast  an  image  of  the  Lamb  of  God, 
and  the  symbol  indicated  both  the  Christian  humility  assumed  by 
the  order  and  the  source  of  the  Burgundian  wealth  and  power. 
There  was  a  vast  trade,  then,  with  Lombardy  and  Venice,  and  the 
court  of  Philip  was  crowded  with  ministers  from  the  great  states 
of  Christendom  — 

'  Lombard  and  Venetian  merchants  with  deep-laden  argosies ; 
Ministers  from  twenty  nations;    more  than  royal  pomp  and  ease.' 

The  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  became  Austrian  when  Philip's 
granddaughter,  Mary,  married  the  archduke,  afterward  emperor, 
Maximilian  ;  it  was  this  Mary,  '  hunting  with  her  hawk  and  hound,' 
who  died  from  the  effects  of  a  fall  from  her  horse  near  Bruges. 
She  was  buried  beneath  the  choir  of  Notre  Dame  in  Bruges." 


116  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  And  why  did  the  proud  Maximilian  kneel  humbly  on  the 
ground  ?  " 

"  There  is.  a  whole  chapter  of  history  in  that  line,  Nathan,  and 
as  it  has  a  good  deal  to  do  with  our  town  halls,  I  will  tell  it  to  you 
in  as  few  words  as  I  can.  The  cities,  as  I  have  said,  represented 
the  freedom  of  the  people  and  self-government,  wrested  or  pur- 
chased from  the  nobles ;  but  the  contest  was  always  going  on,  and 
there  were  always  two  parties  in  the  several  cities,  the  party  of  the 
nobles  and  the  party  of  the  people.  But  the  cities  were  also  jeal- 
ous of  each  other,  and  instead  of  uniting  against  a  common  enemy, 
they  were  very  apt  to  be  suspicious  of  each  other,  and  so  increased 
the  opportunity  of  the  nobles.  The  nobles,  when  in  difficulty, 
were  always  making  promises  to  the  cities,  and  would  then  try  to 
retreat  from  the  promises  when  the  difficulty  was  over.  The 
gentle  Mary,  when  she  died,  left  a  son,  Philip,  four  years  old,  who 
was  recognized  as  her  successor.  Maximilian,  his  father,  was  rec- 
ognized by  all  the  provinces  of  the  house  of  Burgundy,  except 
Flanders,  as  governor  during  Philip's  minority.  The  representa- 
tives of  the  cities  seized  Philip  and  carried  on  the  government 
in  his  name.  Then  Maximilian  came  with  some  cavalry  against 
Bruges,  but  was  taken  prisoner  and  would  not  be  released  until 
he  had  knelt  on  the  ground  in  Bruges  and  sworn  to  observe  a 
treaty  by  which  Flanders  was  to  be  governed  by  its  own  council, 
in  the  name  of  Philip.  But  no  sooner  was  he  at  liberty  than  he 
came  with  an  army,  broke  his  oath,  subdued  the  magistrates,  and 
regained  authority.  He  courted  by  turns  each  party  to  destroy 
the  power  of  the  other." 

Lucy  had  been  keeping  track  of  the  verses  of  the  poem,  and 
was  ready  now  with  another  question :  "  Had  the  battle  of  the 
Spurs  of  Gold  anything  to  do  with  the  Fleece  of  Gold  ?  " 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  117 

"  Oh,  I  know  about  that,"  said  Ned.  "  Let  me  show  off  my 
historical  knowledge,  Aunt  Sarah.  The  Battle  of  the  Golden  Spurs 
was  fought  between  the  Flemings  and  the  French  early  in  the 
fourteenth  century." 

"  1302,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  You  may  as  well  be  exact, 
Ned." 

"Well,  the  beginning  was  in  one  of  those  quarrels,  you  told  us 
about,  when  Philip  the  Handsome,  king  of  France,  pretended  to 
espouse  the  cause  of  the  Flemish  towns  against  Guy  de  Dampierre, 
Count  of  Flanders,  but  really  used  the  rich  cities  as  his  money 
sack.  He  had  left  Chatillon,  his  queen's  uncle,  in  rule,  and  had 
made  himself  very  obnoxious  to  the  people ;  an  occasion  came  when 
there  was  a  direct  conflict  between  them.  The  men  of  Bruges 
had  usually  sounded  their  great  bell  when  they  wanted  to  call  the 
people  together ;  but  the  French  had  possession  of  that,  so  they 
improvised  an  alarm  bell,  and  at  the.  time  agreed  upon  they  seized 
their  cauldrons  and  pounded  their  copper  sides." 

"  I  've  done  that,"  said  Phippy. 

"  Yes,  and  what  a  din  it  makes,  does  n't  it  ?  Either  the  noise 
or  the  fury  of  the  people  did  the  work ;  for  the  French  were  set 
upon,  and  for  three  days  there  was  a  great  massacre,  which  Cha- 
tillon escaped  only  by  running  away.  It  was  a  popular  rising, 
and  everything  depended  on  its  becoming  general,  for  it  was  very 
certain  that  the  French  would  send  an  army  against  these  rebellious 
weavers.  The  men  of  Bruges  marched  to  Ghent  to  get  the  alliance 
of  that  city,  but  the  wretched  jealousy  and  the  factious  spirit  made 
the  Ghentese  hesitate,  and  so  when  the  forces  were  drawn  up, 
Bruges  was  aided  only  by  the  towns  of  Ypres,  Nieuport,  Berghes, 
Fumes,  and  Gravelines.  Philip  sent  an  army  in  which  were  hun- 


MR-  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

dreds  of  French  noblemen  to  chastise  these  insolent  workmen,  and 
the  two  armies  met  before  the  town  of  Courtrai,  upon  a  large 
plain.  The  French  were  arrogant  and  full  of  contempt  for  their 
enemy.  They  were  cavalry,  heavily  clad  in  mail.  The  Flemings 
were  on  foot,  armed  only  with  pikes  shod  with  iron ;  but  they 
were  fighting  for  their  country.  Before  the  battle  the  holy  com- 
munion was  taken  by  the  men  as  was  customary ;  but  as  the  time 
was  pressing  they  did  not  wait  for  the  bread,  but  each  stooped 
down  and  raised  to  his  lips  a  morsel  of  the  turf  he  trod  upon. 
Their  country  was  sacred  to  them.  Then  the  French  came  riding 
headlong  upon  them,  but  they  despised  their  enemy  so  much  that 
they  scarcely  observed  the  form  of  battle,  they  were  in  such  a 
hurry  to  ride  down  these  miserable  wreavers  and  smiths.  They 
did' not  see,  either,  that  a  great  canal,  thirty  feet  wide,  covered  the 
plain,  and  suddenly  they  all  began  to  plunge  head  first  into  this 
ditch.  The  Flemings  sprang  upon  them  with  their  pikes,  and  as 
the  French  were  encased  in  their  coats  of  mail  they  struggled  in 
vain  to  get  free.  They  were  helpless  in  that  ditch,  and  were  lit- 
erally beaten  to  death ;  seven  hundred  gilt  spurs  were  taken  from 
them,  and  hung  in  the  cathedral  at  Courtrai  as  spoils  and  tro- 
phies. That  is  the  reason  the  battle  was  called  the  Battle  of  the 
Golden  Spurs.  Namur  and  Juliers  were  the  two  counts  who  led 
the  Flemings." 

"  There  was  a  vast  deal  of  fighting,  it  seems  to  me,"  said  Nathan, 
"  and  here  comes  the  fight  at  Minnewater." 

"  Yes,  but  wre  won't  stop  for  anything  now  but  the  White  Hoods 
and  Philip  Van  Artevelde.  In  1381  Bruges,  which  was  a  great 
rival  always  of  Ghent,  wanted  to  have  direct  navigation  to  the  Lis, 
and  so  to  the  sea,  instead  of  sending  all  her  goods  through  Ghent, 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES. 


119 


which  then  held  control  of  the  Lis ;  so  she  made  a  secret  arrange- 
ment with  the  Earl  of  Flanders,  and  began  to  dig  a  channel  to  the 
Lis,  which  would  have  left  Ghent  upon  one  side,  and  destroyed 
much  of  her  revenue.  There  was  an  old  custom  in  Ghent,  by  which 


Van  Artevelde  and  the  White  Hoods. 


persons  disaffected  with  the  government  ranged  themselves  into 
a  corps  and  wore  white  hoods  as  a  distinctive  dress,  so  this  cus- 
tom was  revived  under  the  leadership  of  one  Heins  Lyon,  and  a 
party  went  out  to  attack  the  Bruges  diggers.  These  retreated 


120  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

without  fighting ;  but  the  affair  was  the  beginning  of  a  bitter  feud 
between  the  two  cities,  which  dragged  in  the  other  cities  of  Flan- 
ders. With  Bruges,  which  professed  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the 
Earl  of  Flanders,  were  Oudenarde,  Dendermonde,  Lisle,  and  Tour- 
nay  ;  while  with  Ghent  were  Ypres,  Courtray,  Grammont,  and 
others ;  and  as  the  Ghent  cause  seemed  to  be  that  of  the  people, 
while  the  Bruges  was  of  the  Earl  of  Flanders,  the  strife  came  to 
be  regarded  as  a  struggle  between  citizens  and  feudal  lords.  The 
nobles  were  better  organized,  and  little  by  little  all  the  cities  siding 
with  Ghent  were  subdued.  Ghent  alone  remained,  and  there  was 
grave  fear  in  the  city  that  it  might  be  necessary  to  yield  to  the 
Earl  of  Flanders.  At  this  critical  moment,  a  leader  was  brought 
forward  in  Philip  Van  Artevelde,  the  son  of  a  patriotic  Ghent 
man  who  had  himself  been  killed  by  the  people  years  before,  after 
he  had  won  freedom  for  them.  Van  Artevelde  was  led  to  a  win- 
dow of  the  Town  Hall,  where  he  was  presented  to  the  people. 
They  set  up  a  shout,  and  welcomed  him  as  their  chief,  swearing 
faithful  obedience. 

"  Now,  as  soon  as  Philip  Van  Artevelde  became  governor  of 
Ghent,  news  was  brought  that  the  Earl  of  Flanders  was  coming 
upon  the  city  with  a  great  army.  Then  all  the  towns  and  cities 
about  were  forbidden  to  have  any  intercourse  with  Ghent.  The 
earl  meant  to  starve  his  rebellious  subjects  into  obedience.  The 
famine  came  upon  them ;  people  began  to  die  of  hunger.  Philip, 
unable  to  endure  the  suffering,  resolved  to  appeal  to  the  earl. 
With  eleven  others  he  set  out  for  Tournay,  where  they  expected 
to  meet  him.  The  people  waited  anxiously  for  the  return  of  their 
ambassadors.  It  was  Easter,  but  there  was  no  joy  or  festivity  in 
Ghent.  At  length,  after  days  of  suspense,  the  twelve  were  seen 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  121 

returning.  The  people  flocked  about  Philip  for  his  answer,  but 
he  refused  to  give  it  until  the  next  day,  bidding  them  all  meet 
him  in  the  market-place  at  nine  in  the  morning. 

"At  that  hour  a  vast  crowd  of  emaciated,  hungry  people  met 
before  the  Town  Hall.  Philip,  clad  in  armor,  stepped  out  upon  the 
broad  window-sill,  and  with  him  were  the  eleven  who  had  gone 
with  him  to  Tournay,  and  other  leaders  of  the  White  Hoods.  He 
delivered  the  earl's  answer.  All  the  men  of  Ghent  between  the 
ages  of  fifteen  and  sixty  were  commanded  to  come  out  of  the  city 
to  a  plain  six  miles  distant,  to  come  bare-headed,  bare-footed,  clad 
only  in  shirts,  and  wearing  halters  about  their  necks,  and  kneel 
upon  the  ground  for  the  earl's  pardon  or  execution,  as  that  lord 
might  determine.  When  the  people  heard  this  message  they  all 
fell  to  weeping  and  wailing,  and  after  there  was  some  silence 
Philip  spoke  again,  and  said  there  were  three  courses  from  which  to 
take  choice :  either  to  shut  themselves  all  up  in  the  churches  ,and 
die  like  martyrs,  or  to  march  out  as  the  earl  had  commanded,  or 
for  five  thousand  of  them  to  take  their  lives  in  their  hands  and 
make  a  desperate  assault  upon  Bruges.  Those  nearest  him  asked 
what  he  advised.  He  was  for  the  sortie,  and  his  courage  and 
enthusiasm  suddenly  inspired  the  people  with  fresh  hope.  They 
shut  all  the  gates  of  the  town,  and  would  let  no  one  go  out  while 
the  preparations  were  making,  and  the  next  afternoon  the  gates 
were  opened  and  out  marched  the  five  thousand,  with  two  hun- 
dred carts  laden  with  cannon  and  artillery,  and  seven  carts  only 
with  provisions,  so  reduced  were  they.  Those  left  behind  followed 
them  a  little  way  declaring  that  the  moment  they  heard  of  the  death 
cr  defeat  of  the  party  they  should  set  fire  to  the  town  and  perish  in 
the  flames.  For  a  day  the  desperate  five  thousand  kept  on  their 


122  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

way  to  Bruges,  living  chiefly  upon  what  they  could  find  on  their 
way,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  day  after  they  had  left  Ghent,  on 
Friday  evening,  that  is,  encamped  on  the  plain  before  Bruges.  But 
for  the  rest  of  the  story  I  will  turn  to  Froissart  and  read  you  what 
that  chronicler  says  :  — 

" '  The  Saturday  was  a  fine  bright  day,  and,  being  the  feast  of 
the  Holy  Cross,  the  inhabitants  of  Bruges,  according  to  custom, 
made  the  usual  processions.  News  was  soon  brought  to  Bruges 
that  the  Ghent  army  was  near  at  hand ;  so  that  every  one  began 
to  murmur  until  the  earl  heard  it  as  well  as  those  about  his  person. 
He  was  much  surprised,  and  said,  "  See  how  the  wickedness  of  these 
mad  and  foolish  people  of  Ghent  leads  them  to  their  destruction : 
indeed,  4t  is  time  this  war  should  be  put  an  end  to."  His  knights 
and  others  instantly  waited  on  him,  whom  he  very  graciously  re- 
ceived, and  said,  "  We  will  go  and  fight  these  wicked  people  ; 
however,  they  show  courage  in  preferring  death  by  the  sword 
rather  than  famine."  They  determined  to  send  out  three  men 
at  arms  to  examine  the  force  and  situation  of -the  enemy.  The 
marshal  of  Flanders  ordered  three  valiant  squires  on  this  service, 
whose  names  were  Lambert  de  Lambres,  Damas  de  Buffy,  and  John 
de  Beart:  they  set  out,  mounted  on  the  finest  horses  in  the  town, 
and  advanced  toward  the  Ghent  army.  While  this  was  going  for- 
ward, every  person  in  Bruges  made  himself  ready,  and  showed 
the  most  eager  desire  to  sally  forth  and  combat  the  men  of  Ghent, 
of  whom  I  will  now  say  a  word,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
had  drawn  themselves  up. 

" '  On  the  Saturday  morning,  Philip  van  Artevelde  ordered  his 
whole  army  to  pay  their  devotions  to  God,  and  masses  to  be  said 
in  different  places  (for  there  were  with  them  several  monks) ;  that 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  123 

every  man  should  confess  himself,  and  make  other  becoming  prep- 
aration, and  that  they  should  pray  to  God  with  that  truth,  as 
people  looking  to  him  alone  for  mercy.  All  this  was  done,  and 
mass  celebrated  in  seven  different  places.  After  each  mass  was  a 
sermon,  which  lasted  one  hour  and  a  half After  the  ser- 
mons, the  whole  army  assembled  round  a  small  hill,  on  which  Philip 
van  Artevelde  placed  himself,  in  order  to  be  the  better  heard,  and 
harangued  them  very  ably,  explaining  to  them  every  point  in 
which  they  were  justified  in  this  war;  and  how  Ghent  had  fre- 
quently sought  pardon  from  the  earl,  and  never  could  obtain  it 
without  submitting  to  conditions  too  hard  for  the  town  and  its 
inhabitants;  that  now  they  had  advanced  so  far  they  could  not 
retreat ;  and,  that  if  they  would  consider,  they  would  see  nothing 
could  be  gained  were  they  to  return,  for  all  they  had  left  behind 
were  in  sorrow  and  misery.  They  ought  not,  therefore,  to  think 
of  Ghent,  their  wives  and  children  who  were  in  it,  but  to  act  in 
such  manner  as  was  becoming  their  honor.  Philip  van  Artevelde 
addressed  many  more  fine  speeches  to  them ;  for  he  was  very  elo- 
quent, and  had  words  at  command,  which  was  fortunate  for  him, 
and  towards  the  end  he  added,  "  My  good  friends,  you  see  here  all 
your  provision :  divide  it  among  you  fairly,  like  brethren,  without 
any  disturbance ;  for  when  it  is  gone  you  must  conquer  more,  if 
you  wish  to  live." 

"  '  At  these  words  they  drew  up  very  regularly  and  unloaded  the 
carts,  when  the  bags  of  bread  were  given  out,  to  be  divided  by  con- 
stable wicks,  and  the  two  tuns  of  wine  placed  on  their  bottoms ; 
and  there  they  moderately  breakfasted,  each  man  having  a  suffi- 
ciency at  that  time ;  after  which  breakfast  they  found  themselves 
more  determined  and  active  on  their  feet  than  if  they  had  eaten 


124  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

more.  This  repast  being  over,  they  put  themselves  in  order  and 
retired  within  their  ribeaudeaus.  These  ribeaudeaus  are  tall  stakes, 
with  points  shod  with  iron,  which  they  were  always  accustomed  to 
carry  with  them.  They  fixed  them  in  front  of  the  army,  and  in- 
closed themselves  within. 

"  t  The  three  knights  who  had  been  sent  by  the  earl  to  recon- 
noitre, found  them  in  this  situation ;  they  approached  the  entrances 
of  these  ribeaudeaus  ;  but  the  Ghent  men  never  moved,  and  rather 
seemed  rejoiced  to  see  them.  They  returned  to  Bruges,  where  they 
found  the  earl  in  his  palace,  surrounded  by  many  knights,  waiting 
for  them,  to  hear  what  intelligence  they  had  brought  back.  They 
pushed  through  the  crowd,  and  came  near  the  earl,  when  they 
spoke  aloud,  for  the  earl  wished  all  present  to  hear,  and  said  they 
had  advanced  so  close  to  the  Ghent  army  that  they  might  have  shot 
at  them,  if  they  had  so  chosen,  but  they  left  them  in  peace  ;  and 
that  they  had  seen  their  banners,  and  the  army  inclosed  within  their 
ribeaudeaus.  "And  what  are  their  numbers,  think  ye  ?"  said  the 
earl.  They  answered  that  as  near  as  they  could  guess,  they  might 
be  from  five  to  six  thousand.  "  Well,"  said  the  earl,  "  now  let 
every  one  instantly  get  ready  ;  for  I  will  give  them  battle,  and  this 
day  shall  not  pass  without  a  combat."  At  these  words  the  trumpet 
sounded  in  Bruges,  when  every  one  armed  himself  and  made  for 
the  market-place.  As  they  came.,  they  drew  up  under  their  proper 
banners,  as  they  had  usually  done,  in  bands  and  constable  wicks. 

"  '  Many  barons,  knights,  and  men  at  arms,  drew  up  before  the 
palace  of  the  earl.  When  all  was  ready,  and  the  earl  armed,  he 
came  to  the  market-place,  and  was  much  pleased  to  see  such  num- 
bers in  battle  array.  They  then  marched  off,  for  none  dared  dis- 
obey his  commands ;  and,  in  order  of  battle,  made  for  the  plain  ; 


IN  THE  LOW   COUNTRIES.  125 

the  men  at  arms  afterwards  issued  forth  from  Bruges.  It  was  a 
handsome  sight,  for  there  were  upwards  of  forty  thousand  armed 
heads ;  and  thus  horse  and  foot  advanced  in  proper  order,  near  to 
the  place  where  the  Ghent  men  were,  and  then  halted.  It  was  late 
in  the  afternoon  when  the  earl  and  his  army  arrived,  and  the  sun 
going  down.  One  of  the  knights  said  to  the  earl,  "  My  Lord,  you 
now  see  your  enemies ;  they  are  but  a  handful  of  men  in  compar- 
ison with  your  army,  and  as  they  cannot  escape,  do  not  engage 
them  this  day,  but  wait  for  to-morrow,  when  you  will  have  the  day 
before  you ;  you  will,  beside,  have  more  light  to  see  what  you  are 
about,  and  they  will  be  weaker,  for  they  have  not  anything  to  eat." 
" '  The  earl  approved  much  this  advice,  and  would  willingly  have 
followed  it ;  but  the  men  of  Bruges,  impatient  to  begin  the  fight, 
would  not  wait,  saying  they  would  soon  defeat  them  and  return 
back  to  their  town.  Notwithstanding  the  orders  of  the  men  at  arms, 
for  the  earl  had  not  less  than  eight  hundred  lances,  knights  and 
squires,  the  Bruges  men  began  to  shoot  and  to  fire  cannons.  The 
Ghent  men  being  collected  in  a  body  on  an  eminence,  fired  at  once 
three  hundred  cannon ;  after  which  they  turned  the  marsh,  and 
placed  the  Bruges  men  with  the  sun  in  their  eyes,  which  much  dis- 
tressed them,  and  then  fell  upon  them,  shouting  "  Ghent!"  The 
moment  the  men  of  Bruges  heard  the  cannon  and  the  cry  of  Ghent, 
and  saw  them  marching  to  attack  them  in  front,  they,  like  cowards, 
opened  their  ranks,  and  letting  the  Ghent  men  pass  without  making 
any  defense,  flung  down  their  staves  and  ran  away.  The  Ghent 
men  were  in  close  order,  and,  perceiving  their  enemies  were  de- 
feated, began  to  knock  down  and  kill  on  all  sides.  They  advanced 
with  a  quick  step,  shouting  "  Ghent !  "  and  saying,  "  Let  us  pursue 
briskly  our  enemies,  who  are  defeated,  and  enter  the  town  with 
them ;  God  eyes  us  this  day  with  looks  of  pity." 


126  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

" '  They  followed  those  of  Bruges  with  so  much  courage,  that 
whenever  they  knocked  down  or  killed  any  one,  they  marched  on 
without  halting  or  quitting  the  pursuit,  whilst  the  men  of  Bruges 
fled  with  the  haste  of  a  defeated  army.  I  must  say,  that  at  this 
place  there  were  multitudes  of  slain,  wounded,  and  thrown  down ; 
for  they  made  no  defense,  and  never  were  such  cowardly  wretches 
as  those  of  Bruges,  or  who  more  weakly  or  recreantly  behaved 
themselves,  after  all  their  insolence  when  they  first  took  the  field. 
Some  may  wish  to  excuse  them  by  supposing  there  might  have  been 
treason,  which  caused  this  defeat.  This  was  not  so ;  but  such  poor 
and  weak  conduct  fell  on  their  own  heads. 

"  '  When  the  Earl  of  Flanders  and  the  men  at  arms  saw  that,  by 
the  miserable  defense  of  the  men  of  Bruges,  they  had  caused  their 
own  defeat,  and  that  there  was  not  any  remedy  for  it,  for  every 
man  was  running  away  as  fast  as  he  could,  they  were  much  sur- 
prised, and  began  to  be  alarmed  for  themselves,  and  to  make  off  in 
different  directions.  It  is  true,  that  had  they  seen  any  probability 
of  recovering  the  loss  which  the  Bruges  men  were  suffering,  they 
would  have  done  some  deeds  of  arms,  by  which  they  might  have 
rallied  the'm  a  little ;  but  they  saw  it  was  hopeless,  for  they  were 
flying  to  Bruges  in  all  directions,  and  neither  the  son  waited  for  the 
father,  nor  the  father  for  his  child. 

" '  The  men  at  arms,  therefore,  began  to  break  their  ranks.  Few 
had  any  desire  to  return  to  Bruges,  for  the  crowd  was  so  great  on 
the  road  thither  that  it  was  painful  to  see  and  hear  the  complaints 
of  the  wounded  and  hurt.  The  men  of  Ghent  were  close  at  their 
heels,  shouting  out,  "  Ghent,  Ghent !  "  knocking  down  all  that  ob- 
structed them.  The  greater  part  of  these  men  at  arms  had  never 
before  been  in  such  peril ;  even  the  earl  was  advised  to  make  for 


IN  THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  127 

Bruges,  and  to  have  the  gates  closed  and  guarded,  so  that  the  Ghent 
men  should  not  be  able  to  force  them  and  become  masters  of  the 
town.  The  Earl  of  Flanders  saw  no  help  for  his  men,  who  were 
flying  on  all  sides,  and,  as  it  was  now  dark  night,  followed  this  ad- 
vice and  took  the  road  to  Bruges,  his  banner  displayed  before  him. 
He  ordered  guards  to  defend  the  gates  if  the  Ghent  men  should 
come  thither,  and  then  rode  to  his  palace,  from  whence  he  issued 
a  proclamation  that  every  person,  under  pain  of  death,  should  as- 
semble in  the  market-place.  The  intention  of  the  earl  was  to  save 
the  town  by  this  means ;  but  it  did  not  succeed,  as  you  shall  hear. 

"  '  While  the  earl  was  in  his  palace,  and  had  sent  the  clerks  of 
the  different  trades  from  street  to  street,  to  hasten  the  inhabitants 
to  the  market-place,  in  order  to  preserve  the  city,  the  men  of  Ghent, 
having  closely  pursued  their  enemies,  entered  the  town  with  them, 
and  instantly  made  for  the  market-place,  without  turning  to  the 
right  or  left,  where  they  drew  themselves  up  in  array.  Sir  Robert 
Mareschant,  one  of  the  earl's  knights,  had  been  sent  to  the  gates  to 
see  they  were  guarded  ;  but  while  the  earl  was  planning  means  for 
defending  the  town,  Sir  Robert  found  a  gate  flung  off  its  hinges, 
and  the  Ghent  men  masters  of  it.  Some  of  the  citizens  said  to  him, 
"  Robert,  Robert,  return  and  save  yourself,  if  you  can,  for  the 
Ghent  men  have  taken  the  town."  The  knight  returned  as  speedily 
as  he  could  to  the  earl,  whom  he  met  coming  out  of  his  palace  on 
horseback,  with  a  number  of  torches.  The  knight  told  him  what 
he  had  heard ;  but  notwithstanding  this  the  earl,  anxious  to  defend 
the  town,  advanced  toward  the  market-place,  and  as  he  was  enter- 
ing it  with  a  number  of  torches,  shouting,  "  Flanders  for  the  Lyon ! 
Flanders  for  the  Earl !  "  those  near  his  horse  and  about  his  person, 
seeing  the  place  full  of  Ghent  men,  said,  "  My  Lord,  return  ;  for  if 


128  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

you  advance  further  you  will  be  slain,  or  at  the  best  made  prisoner 
by  your  enemies,  as  they  are  drawn  up  in  the  square  and  are  wait- 
ing for  you." 

"  (  They  told  him  truth ;  for  the  Ghent  men,  seeing  the  great 
blaze  of  torches  in  the  street,  said  "  Here  comes  my  lord,  here  comes 
the  earl :  how  he  falls  into  our  hands  !  "  Philip  Van  Artevelde  had 
given  orders  to  his  men  that  if  the  earl  should  come  every  care 
was  to  be  taken  to  preserve  him  from  harm,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  carried  alive  and  in  good  health  to  Ghent,  when  they  should  be 
able  to  obtain  what  peace  they  chose.  The  earl  had  entered  the 
square,  near  to  where  the  Ghent  men  were  drawn  up,  when  several 
people  came  to  him  and  said :  "  My  Lord,  do  not  come  further  ;  for 
the  Ghent  men  are  masters  of  the  market-place  and  of  the  town, 
and  if  you  advance  you  will  run  a  risk  of  being  taken.  Numbers  of 
them  are  now  searching  for  their  enemies -from  street  to  street,  and 
many  of  the  men  of  Bruges  have  joined  them,  who  conduct  them 
from  hotel  to  hotel  to  seek  those  whom  they  want.  You  cannot 
pass  any  of  the  gates  without  danger  of  being  killed,  for  they  are  in 
their  possession ;  nor  can  you  return  to  your  palace,  for  a  large 
rout  of  Ghent  men  have  marched  thither." 

" '  When  the  earl  heard  this  speech,  which  was  heart-breaking  as 
you  may  guess,  he  began  to  be  much  alarmed  and  to  see  the  peril 
he  was  in.  He  resolved  to  follow  the  advice  of  not  going  further, 
and  to  save  himself  if  he  could,  which  was  confirmed  by  his  own 
judgment.  He  ordered  the  torches  to  be  extinguished,  and  said  to 
those  about  him,  "  I  see  clearly  that  affairs  are  without  remedy  !  I 
therefore  give  permission  for  every  one  to  depart  and  save  himself 
in  the  best  manner  he  can."  His  orders  were  obeyed.  The  torches 
were  put  out  and  thrown  in  the  streets ;  and  all  who  were  in  com- 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES.  129 

pany  with  the  earl  separated  and  went  away.  He  himself  went  to 
a  by-street,  where  he  was  disarmed  by  his  servant ;  and,  throwing 
down  his  clothes,  put  on  his  servant's,  saying,  "  Go  about  thy  busi- 
ness, and  save  thyself  if  thou  canst ;  but  be  silent  if  thou  fall  into 
the  hands  of  my  enemies ;  and  if  they  ask  thee  anything  about  me 
do  not  give  them  any  information."  "  My  Lord,"  replied  the  valet, 
"  I  will  sooner  die." 

" '  The  Earl  of  Flanders  thus  remained  alone,  and  it  may  be 
truly  said  he  was  in  the  greatest  danger ;  for  it  was  over  with  him 
if  he  had  at  that  hour,  by  any  accident,  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  mob,  who  were  going  up  and  down  the  streets,  searching  every 
house  for  the  friends  of  the  earl ;  and  whomsoever  they  found  they 
carried  before  Philip  van  Artevelde  and  the  other  captains  in  the 
market-place,  when  they  were  instantly  put  to  death.  It  was  God 
alone  who  watched  over  him,  and  delivered  him  from  this  peril :  for 
no  one  had  ever  before  been  in  such  imminent  danger,  as  I  shall 
presently  relate.  The  earl  inwardly  bewailed  his  situation  from 
street  to  street  at  this  late  hour,"  for  it  was  a  little  past  midnight, 
and  he  dared  not  enter  any  house,  lest  he  should  be  seized  by  the 
mobs  of  Ghent  and  Bruges.  Thus,  as  he  was  rambling  through 
the  streets,  he  at  last  entered  the  house  of  a  poor  woman,  a  very 
unfit  habitation  for  such  a  lord,  as  there  were  neither  halls  nor 
apartments,  but  a  small  house,  dirty  and  smoky,  and  as  black  as 
jet;  there  was  only  in  this  place  one  poor  chamber,  over  which 
was  a  sort  of  garret  that  was  entered  by  means  of  a  ladder  of 
seven  steps,  where,  on  a  miserable  bed,  the  children  of  this  woman 
lay. 

" ( The  earl  entered  this  house  with  fear  and  trembling,  and  said' 
to  the  woman,  who  was  also  much  frightened,  "  Woman,  save  me : 


130  MR-   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

I  arn  thy  lord,  the  Earl  of  Flanders ;  but  at  this  moment  I  must 
hide  myself,  for  my  enemies  are  in  pursuit  of  me ;  and  I  will  hand- 
somely reward  thee  for  the  favor  thou  showest  me."  The  poor 
woman  knew  him  well,  for  she  had  frequently  received  alms  at 
his  door ;  and  had  often  seen  him  pass  and  repass,  when  he  was 
going  to  some  amusement,  or  hunting.  She  was  ready  with  her 
answers,  in  which  God  assisted  the  earl:  for  had  she  delayed  it 
•ever  so  little  they  would  have  found  him  in  conversation  with 
her  by  the  fireside.  "  My  lord,  mount  this  ladder,  and  get  under 
-the  bed  in  which  my  children  sleep."  This  he  did  while  she  em- 
ployed herself  by  the  fireside  with  another  child  in  a  cradle. 

" '  The  Earl  of  Flanders  mounted  the  ladder  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  and,  getting  between  the  straw  and  the  coverlid,  hid  him- 
self, and  contracted  his  body-  into  as  little  space  as  possible.  He 
had  scarcely  done  so,  when  some  of  the  mob  of  Ghent  entered  the 
house ;  for  one  of  them  had  said  he  had  seen  a  man  go  in  there. 
They  found  this  woman  sitting  by  the  fire,  nursing  her  child,  of 
whom  they  demanded,  "  Woman,  where  is  the  man  we  saw  enter 
this  house,  and  shut  the  door  after  him  ?  "  "  By  my  troth,"  re- 
plied she,  "  I  have  not  seen  any  one  enter  here  this  night ;  but 
I  have  just  been  at  the  door  to  throw  out  some  water,  which  I 
then  shut  after  me ;  besides,  I  have  not  any  place  to  hide  him  in, 
for  you  see  the  whole  of  this  house ;  here  is  my  bed,  and  my  chil- 
dren sleep  overhead."  Upon  this  one  of  them  took  a  candle,  and 
mounted  the  ladder,  and,  thrusting  his  head  into  the  place,  saw 
nothing  but  the  wretched  bed  in  which  the  children  were  asleep. 
He  looked  all  about  him,  above  and  below,  and  then  said  to  his 
companions,  "  Come,  come,  let  us  go,  we  only  lose  our  time  here ; 
the  poor  woman  speaks  truth :  there  is  not  a  soul  but  herself  and 


IN   THE  LOW  COUNTRIES. 

her  children."  On  saying  this,  they  left  the  house  and  went  inlo 
another  quarter ;  and  no  one  afterwards  entered  it  who  had  bad 
intentions. 

" '  The  Earl  of  Flanders,  hearing  all  this  conversation  as  he  lay 
hid,  you  may  easily  imagine  was  in  the  greatest  fear  of  his  life. 
In  the  morning  he  could  have  said  he  was  one  of  the  most  pow- 
erful princes  in  Christendom,  and  that  same  night  he  felt  him- 
self one  of  the  smallest.  One  may  truly  say  that  the  fortunes 
of  this  world  are  not  stable.  It  was  fortunate  for  him  to  save  his 
life ;  and  this  miraculous  escape  ought  to  be  to  him  a  remembrance 
his  whole  lifetime.' ' 

.  "Well,"  said  Nathan,  rather  scornfully,  "I  don't  think  much  of 
that  earl's  courage.  A  pretty  figure  he  cuts  hiding  under  the  poor 
woman's  bed,  and  changing  clothes  with  his  servant.  I  should 
think  he  exposed  his  servant  to  all  the  danger  he  escaped." 

"But  what  became  of  the  starving  people  in  Ghent?"  asked 
Lucy. 

" '  On  the  Monday  morning,'  "  Mrs.  Bodley  read  further,  " '  the 
happy  news  of  the  defeat  of  the  earl  and  his  army  was  brought  to 
Ghent ;  that  their  men  had  not  only  conquered  them,  but  also  the 
town  of  Bruges,  of  which  they  were  now  masters.  You  may  guess 
the  joy  the  people  felt  who  had  been  so  lately  in  the  greatest  tribu- 
lation ;  they  made  many  processions  to  the  church  to  return  thanks- 
givings to  God  for  the  mercy  he  had  shown  them,  and  for  the  victory 

he  had  given  to  their  army Philip  van  Artevelde  and  Peter 

du  Bois  considered  that  when  they  had  quitted  Ghent  they  had  left 
it  destitute  of  all  provision,  for  there  was  neither  corn  nor  wine  in 
the  town ;  they  instantly  detached  a  large  party  to  Damme  and 
Sluys  to  gain  those  towns  and  the  provisions  which  were  in  them, 


132  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

in  order  to  supply  their  fellow-citizens  in  Ghent.  On  the  detach- 
ment arriving  at  Damme  the  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  the  town 
with  all  in  it  surrendered.  They  ordered  out  of  the  fine  cellars 
the  wines  of  Poitou,  Gascony,  and  La  Rochelle,  and  from  other 
distant  countries,  to  the  amount  of  six  thousand  tuns,  which  they 
loaded  on  carriages  and  sent  by  land  to  Ghent,  and  also  by  boats 
on  the  river  Lis.  They  then  marched  on  to  Sluys,  which  instantly 
submitted  to  them  and  opened  its  gates.  They  found  there  great 
quantities  of  casks  of  corn  and  flour,  in  ships  and  in  the  storehouses 
of  foreign  merchants,  and  having  paid  for  the  whole  sent  it  by  land 
and  water  to  Ghent.  Thus  was  Ghent  delivered  from  famine,  through 
the  mercy  of  God.  It  could  not  have  happened  otherwise,  and  well 
ought  the  Ghent  men  to  remember  it ;  for  that  God  assisted  them 
is  very  clear,  when  five  thousand  famished  men  defeated  forty 
thousand  even  before  their  own  doors.'  ' 

"  I  've  been  waiting  patiently,"  said  Phippy,  "  to  hear  about  great 
Artevelde  scaling  the  Golden  Dragon's  nest." 

"  The  Golden  Dragon's  nest  was  the  top  of  the  spire  upon  the 
Belfry  of  Bruges.  Tradition  said  that  the  great  copper-gilt  dragon, 
as  big  as  a  bull,  which  surmounted  the  spire,  had  been  brought  from 
Constantinople  in  1204.  I  don't  suppose  Philip  climbed  up." 

"  Shinned  up,  mother." 

"  Scaled,  we  '11  say,  the  spire  to  get  it  down,  but  it  really  was 
carried  off  to  Ghent  as  a  trophy  and  perched  upon  the  top  of  their 
own  belfry,  where  it  still  is,  I  believe." 

"  There  was  one  more  time  of  fighting  that  the  Bruges  belfry 
witnessed,"  said  Ned. 

"  Yes,  in  the  sixteenth  century  Charles  V.  of  Spain  took  the  coun- 
try, and  he  cut  out  the  tongue  of  great  Roland,  the  bell  which  hung 


IN   THE  HIGH  COUNTRY.  133 

in  the  Ghent  belfry,  and  cast  it  to  the  ground,  to  humble  the 
Ghentese.  Roland  had  an  inscription  upon  it  in  Flemish,  like  this 
in  English. 

"  '  I  am  Roland;  sound  I  low,  there  is  fire  at  hand, 
But  sound  I  loudly,  it  means  foes  in  Flemish  land.'  " 

"  Well,  Aunt  Sarah,"  said  Ned,  as  Froissart  was  closed  and  put 
away,  "  we  might  get  up  a  copy  of  The  Belfry  of  Bruges  with  foot- 
notes and  illustrations." 

"  I  wish  we  could  all  some  day  make  foot-notes  there,"  said  Na- 
than. "  on  the  spot." 

"  Nathan,  if  you  make  puns,"  said  Ned,  "  I  shall  illustrate  your 
remarks  with  wood-cuts  from  this  rule  in  my  hand." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

IN    THE    HIGH    COUNTRY. 

As  the  summer  drew  near  its  end  it  seemed  to  gather  its  heat 
and  send  it  out  more  steadily.  The  grasshoppers  hopped  up  and 
down  as  if  the  earth  burned  them  when  they  touched  it.  The  Bod- 
leys  had  ice-cream  nearly  every  day,  and  would  have  had  it  oftener 
if  it  had  not  been  necessary  to  turn  the  crank  of  the  freezer.  Nurse 
Young  seemed  to  be  the  only  cool  person.  She  went  about  her 
work,  washing  laces  and  laying  them  upon  the  grass  to  bleach,  and. 
would  stand  out  there  in  the  sun  looking  at  them,  and  turning  them 
as  if  they  were  cakes  on  a  griddle  iron. 

"  Are  n't  you  ever  hot,  Nurse  Young  ?  "  asked  Lucy  disconsolately, 
as  she  sat  on  the  step  of  the  woodshed. 


134  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Well,  no,  my  dear,  except  when  I  sit  down  and  think  about  it. 
You  see  in  Newfun'land  we  never  had  it  very  hot,  and  I  suppose  I 
got  my  bones  frozen,  like,  when  I  was  a  little  gell,  and  the  sun  does 
them  good  now." 

"  Then  you  were  always  hearing  about  Greenland  and  those  cold 
places.  I  suppose  that  cooled  you  off.  I  should  like  to  be  at  the 
North  Pole  for  just  about  five  minutes." 

"  You  'd  want  to  warm  yourself  at  the  Northern  Lights,"  said 
Nurse  Young,  good-naturedly.  "  I  rather  think  the  poor  men  that 
0:0  wandering;  round  trvins;  to  find  the  Pole  would  like  to  warm 

O  O  */  O 

their  hands  on  the  Equator.  We  always  want  to  be  somewhere 
else,  but  thanks  be  to  praise,  I  'in  contented.  I  know  a  good  home 
when  I  get  it."  Lucy  got  up  and  walked  slowly  back  into  the 
house,  where  she  got  into  her  little  rocking-chair  and  rocked  slowly 
back  and  forth.  Mrs.  Bodley,  walking  in  and  out  on  some  house- 
hold errands,  saw  her. 

"  Run  and  help  Nathan  string  peach-pits,"  she  said,  and  Lucy 
rose  and  walked  off  to  the  piazza.  Nathan  and  Phippy  had  been 
cracking  peach-stones  and  were  stringing  the  pits  on  thread.  It  was 
quite  a  little  business  with  the  Bodleys ;  they  saved  all  the  peach- 
stones,  cracked  them,  strung  the  pits,  and  sold  them  strung  for  five 
cents  a  hundred,  while  Mrs.  Bodley  used  them  for  flavoring  blanc- 
mange. Her  mother  watched  Lucy  as  she  went  out,  and  fell  to 
thinking.  At  breakfast  the  next  day  her  thoughts  came  out. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  asked, "  that  we  could  get  packed  to-day  for 
a  week  among  the  mountains  ?  "  The  children  shouted,  and  Lucy's 
eyes  brightened.  "  We  will  try,  at  any  rate,"  she  went  on,  "  and  if 
we  can  we  will  take  the  train  for  Alton  Bay  to-morrow."  The  rest 
of  the  day  was  a  lively  one.  The  children  seemed  to  forget  the 


IN  THE  HIGH  COUNTRY.  137 

heat,  so  eager  were  they  to  be  off,  and  the  next  day  they  were  all 
on  their  way  to  the  White  Mountains.  Mrs.  Bodley  knew  of  a 
quiet  little  village  called  Tannvorth,  half  way  between  Senter  Har- 
bor and  Conway,  where  she  could  find  board,  and  there  she  meant 
to  take  her  little  flock.  The  day  was  heavy  and  close,  but  as  they 
got  away  from  the  city  they  seemed  to  breathe  more  freely.  As 
they  came  closer  to  the  hills  their  spirits  rose  and  the  children  were 
running  first  to  one  side  and  then  to  the  other  of  the  car.  At  Al- 
ton Bay  they  changed  from  the  railroad  to  the  little  steamer  Lady 
of  the  Lake,  and  so  crossed  Lake  Winnipiseogee  to  Senter  Harbor, 
the  cool  wind  blowing  across  the  water,  and  the  round  Red  Hills 
before  them.  They  dined  at  the  Senter  House,  and  after  dinner 
clambered  up  upon  the  stage-coach  and  drove  off  to  Tamworth, 
which  they  reached  in  time  for  an  early  tea.  Chocorua  stood 
sharply  before  them,  a  noble  mountain,  that  looked  almost  inacces- 
sible with  its  rough  granite  summit;  and  other  mountains,  Sandwich 
Dome,  Passaconaway,  White  Face,  and  one  which  from  its  appear- 
ance, their  landlady  said,  sometimes  was  called  Tumble  Bed  Mount- 
ain, were  ranged  along  the  near  horizon. 

"  It  does  look  exactly  like  a  great  feather  bed  into  which  some- 
body has  jumped,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Chocorua  looks  like  a  ploughshare,"  said  Ned.  "  Aunt  Sarah, 
can  you  get  any  idea  of  Switzerland  from  these  mountains  ?  " 

"  Oddly  enough,  Ned,  Chocorua  itself  has  a  likeness  to  the  Mat- 
terhorn,  one  of  the  Swiss  mountains.  It  is  not,  to  be  sure,  so  high, 
but  its  shape  is  like  it,  and  if  it  were  in  perpetual  snow  I  think 
it  would  look  nearly  as  grand." 

"  Oh,  would  n't  I  like  to  walk  in  Switzerland  !  " 

"  We  '11  go  some  day,  Ned,"  said  Nathan.     "Depend  upon  it." 


138 


MR.   BOD  LEY  ABROAD. 


"  I   suppose    the   mountains   are   all   covered  wi'th  snow   in   the 
winter,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  then  they  must  do  nearly  as  well  as 

.  Switzerland." 

"  Chocorua  is  not," 
said  the  landlady. 
~"  The  snow  blows  off 
its  granite  top,  but 
there  is  a  beautiful 
sight  WT  e  see  there 
every  spring.  The 
snow  stays  o  n  the 
mountain  longer  than 
it  does  below,  but 
after  it  is  all  gone 
everywhere  else,  you 
can  trace  it  on  the 
face  of  Chocorua  in 
the  shape  of  a  beau- 
tiful white  cross.  I 
don't  know  as  you 
can  make  it  out  very 
well  in  this  light,  but 
perhaps  you  can  see 
a  ravine  filled  with 
trees  and  bushes 
running  up  the 
head  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can  make  it  out." 

"  There  's  another  crossing  it,  and  the  snow  will  lie  on  those  ra- 


The  Matterhorn. 


IN   THE  HIGH   COUNTRY. 


139 


vines  in  among  the  bushes,  when  it  has  fallen  off  the  rocks,  and  you 
will  see  a  white  cross." 

"  Oh,  I  'd  like  to  come  here  in  the  winter-time  1 "  exclaimed 
Lucy. 

"  Well,  we  like  it,"  said  the  landlady.  "  We  think  the  winter 
here  is  finer  than  the  summer  sometimes,  but  it  does  get  rather 


A  Sleighing  Party  in  the  Mountains. 


lonely.  There  are  n't  as  many  young  folks  here  as  there  were  when 
I  was  a  girl.  Then  we  had  fine  sport,  going  on  sleighing  parties 
and  having  bees.  It 's  pretty  quiet  here  nowadays." 

It  could  not  be  called  noisy  even  in  the  summer  season.  The 
place  had  not  yet  become  a  summer  resort,  and  only  now  and  then 
did  any  one  come  to  use  the  village  as  a  headquarters  from  which 


140  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

to  plan  excursions.  But  the  children  were  very  happy  in  their  life 
there.  They  took  long  drives  with  a  stout  horse  and  wagon,  and 
though  they  did  not  climb  Chocorua  they  made  many  ascents  of 
lesser  hills.  One  day  they  planned  a  picnic  upon  the  shores  of 
Chocorua  Lake.  It  was  a  lovely  autumn  day.  The  goldenrods 
were  indeed  beginning  to  show  signs  of  drooping,  and  the  maples 
here  and  there  were  shot  with  bright  colors,  while  the  sumachs  in 
the  meadows  had  already  begun  to  cast  their  slender  leaves.  They 
drove  through  the  woods  and  to  the  lake,  and,  crossing  the  little 
causeway  which  separates  the  two  ponds,  followed  a  cart  path  into 
the  fields  and  up  to  a  little  knoll  which  overlooked  the  water. 
Above  them  they  could  see  the  tall  mountain,  and  all  about  them 
rocks,  trees,  and  water.  Not  a  house  was  within  sight.  They  took 
the  horse  from  the  shafts  and  let  him  browse  in  the  dry  pasture, 
while  they  scattered  in  search  of  blackberries.  A  few  late  rasp- 
berries they  found  also,  and  even  one  or  two  tiny  mountain  straw- 
berries which  had  a  singular  fruitiness  for  such  little  berries.  Per- 
haps their  rarity  made  them  seem  more  delicious.  When  they 
came  back  to  their  picnic  ground  and  showed  their  spoils,  they  had 
been  so  successful  that  it  was  agreed  to  put  off  their  lunch  until 
they  had  finished  their  berrying,  for  the  chief  business  of  the  pic- 
nic was  to  gather  berries  enough  to  allow  Mrs.  Bodley  to  make 
blackberry  jam  for  the  winter.  So  their  lunch  was  not  until  nearly 
three  o'clock.  They  had  just  seated  themselves  on  the  grass  to 
eat  it  when  they  heard  wheels  approaching,  and  in  a  moment 
their  landlady  appeared,  clucking  to  her  horse,  and  making  toward 
them. 

"  What  is  it,  Mrs.  Bruce  ?  "  asked  Ned,  starting  up.     Mrs.  Bruce 
dropped  the  reins  and  fumbled  under  the  cushion  of  the  wagon. 


IN   THE  HIGH   COUNTRY.  141 

"  There  was  a  letter  came,"  said  she,  "  and  I  was  driving  over 
toward  Albany,  so  I  thought  I  'd  stop  and  leave  it,  thinking  maybe 
you  'd  like  to  have  it  at  your  picnic.  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Mrs. 
Bodley,  you  've  picked  all  those  berries !  Well,  the  children  have 
been  smart." 

"  Stop  and  have  some  lunch,  Mrs.  Bruce,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 

"  Lunch  now  at  three  o'cloc%k !  Well,  you  must  be  mortal  hun- 
gry, or  else  you  ain't,  I  don't  know  which.  No,  I  must  be  going 
on.  Huddup,  Katy !  "  and  she  turned  her  wagon  about,  holding 
the  reins  on  high,  and  disappeared  among  the  bushes. 

"  Is  n't  it  splendid  !  "  said  Phippy ;  "  it 's  a  letter  from  father. 
How  did  it  get  to  Tamworth?" 

"  I  left  word  to  have  it  sent  on  if  it  should  come.  Yes,  it  is 
from  Geneva,  Switzerland." 

"  I  hope  he  's  been  among  the  Alps,"  said  Ned.  "  It  would  be 
highly  appropriate  to  hear  it  here  under  Chocorua." 

"  We  '11  hear  it,  wherever  he  has  been,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  Why, 
here  is  a  note  inside  for  Nathan." 

"  And  is  n't  there  one  for  me  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Nathan,  opening  his;  "  your's  is  inside  of  mine." 

"  Oh,  get  at  mine,"  said  Lucy ;  and  Phippy,  opening  hers,  dropped 
out,  sure  enough,  a  little  one  for  Lucy. 

"  Now,  Lucy,  give  me  mine,"  said  Ned ;  but  although  all  the 
sheets  were  opened  and  shaken  nothing  fell  out  for  Ned  Adams. 
"  Then  I  must  have  a  piece  of  each,"  said  he. 

"  Mine  seems  to  be  little  more  than  a  sketch  of  what  your  father 
has  done  since  he  last  wrote,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  glancing  over  her 
sheet.  The  letter  told  how  from  Belgium  he  had  gone  to  Cologne, 
and  from  there  on  the  Rhine  to  Coblentz;  at  Coblentz  he  had 


142 


MR.   DODLEY  ABROAD. 


taken  rail  again,  by  Strasburg  and  Freiburg  to  Basle,  when  he 
entered  Switzerland.  The  first  point  he  had  made  there  was  Lu- 
cerne ;  thence  by  the 
Brlinig  Pass  to  B  r  i  - 
e  n  z  and  Interlaken, 
whence  he  had  made 
excursions  to  Murren 
and  other  points ;  by 
the  Grimsel  to  the 
Valley  of  the  Rhone ; 
down  that  valley  to 
Martigny,  with  a  side 
excursion  to  the  Baths 
of  Leuk ;  from  Mar- 
tigny to  Vevey  and 
back,  and  then  by  the 
Tete  Noire  to  Cha- 
mounix,  and  so  to 
Geneva. 

"  My  letter  is  from 
Basle,"  said  Nathan. 

"  You  shall  each 
read  your  letter 
aloud,"  said  his  moth- 
er, and  I  think  Na- 
than must  begin,  as 
he  is  the  oldest. 


Strasburg  Spire 


"Mine  is  from  Vevey,"  said  Phippy. 
.    "And  mine  from  Chamounix,"  said  Lucy. 


IN  THE  HIGH  COUNTRY,  143 

"  Then  the  order  is  in  the  order  of  his  journey.  Come,  Nathan, 
let  us  hear  about  Basle." 

"  There  is  not  much  about  Basle,"  said  Nathan,  who  had  been 
reading  his  letter.  "  It  is  mostly  about  Strasburg,  with  lots  of 
photographs  in  it,"  and  then  he  read :  — 

"  '  You  must  study  German  before  you  travel  abroad,  Nathan.  I 
have  so  little  of  the  language  that  I  had  some  trouble  getting  a 
towel  this  morning.  I  found  that  the  maid  had  neglected  to  leave 
me  one.  So  I  rang,  and  a  boy  came.  I  put  my  sleepy  head  and 
hands  out  of  the  door-crack,  said  I  wanted  a  towel,  and  performed 
a  mimic  wiping  of  my  face  and  hands.  In  five  minutes  the  maid 
came  with  something  wrapped  in  tin  foil,  which  I  suppose  was 
soap.  I  said  "  No,  no,  no  !  "  and  shouted  "  Towel !  "  as  if  the  louder 
I  spoke  the  more  perfectly  she  would  understand.  Then  I  gave  my 
face  and  hands  'another  dry  wipe,  and  she  exclaimed,  "  Wasser ! " 
"  No,  no! "  I  cried  again,  and  louder  still,  "  Towel !  "  Off  she  went, 
and  in  five  minutes  more  there  came  an  English-speaking  servant 
who  took  my  order,  and  at  last  the  precious  article  came. 

"  '  But  I  meant  to  tell  you  about  my  visit  to  Strasburg.  It  is  in 
French  territory,1  and  to  avoid  having  my  luggage  twice  examined, 
I  stopped  at  Kehl,  a  little  village  on  the  Baden  side  of  the  Rhine, 
and,  leaving  my  bags,  took  an  excursion  lightly  equipped  across 
the  river.  I  had  seen  the  spire  in  the  distance,  and  as  I  passed 
through  the  city  I  was  entertained  by  the  vast  roofs  of  the  houses, 
which  were  most  picturesquely  irregular.  They  seemed  to  be  jum- 
bled together  in  such  a  confused  way  that  one  would  think  each 
feared  to  slide  off  into  the  street,  and  was  seizing  its  neighbor 

1  So  it  was  when  Mr.  Bodley  was  there  years  ago. 


144 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


to  hold  itself  in  place.  An  avalanche  of  these  steep  roofs  would 
seem  something  to  be  expected ;  and  then  the  queer  little  windows, 
poked  out  of  the  roof,  higher  and  higher,  made  me  think  that  a 
race  of  astronomers  must  live  in  them. 

"  i  The  cathedral  rose  finely  from  an  open  square,  its  spire  tower- 


Strasburg  Cathedral 

ing  four  hundred  and  sixty-eight  feet  above  the  pavement,  —  the 
tallest  spire  in  the  world,  and,  indeed,  taller,  I  believe,  than  any 
structure  of  man's  building.  I  went  in  through  the  beautiful  porch, 
and  I  think  if  I  could  have  chosen  a  first  cathedral  to  show  you,  I 
should,  perhaps,  have  chosen  this,  because  of  two  things.  There 
are  no  little  chapels  and  very  few  pictures,  so  that  there  is  little 


THE   PROCESSION    OF   PRIESTS. 


IN   THE  HIGH  COUNTRY. 


147 


to  draw  off  the  eye  from  the  great  masses  of  form  and  color.  The 
stone  is  a  reddish  sandstone,  which  made 
the  church  appear  to  be  in  twilight.  Then 
there  is  ar  superb  western  marigold  win- 
dow, and  you  would  see  how  beautiful 
colored  glass  could  be.  But  what  you 
would  be  most  interested  in  would  be  the 
famous  astronomical  clock.  I  happened 
to  enter  the  cathedral  just  as  a  proces- 
sion of  priests  was  ascending  the  broad 
flight  of  steps  which  leads  into  the  part 
of  the  cathedral  called  the  choir.  In  an 
hour  the  service  was  over,  and  as  it  was 
nearly  twelve  o'clock,  I  made  my  way 
to  the  South  Transept  to  see  the  famous 
clock.  This  clock  takes  the  place  of  one 
which  was  made  a  long  while  ago,  but  had  fallen  into  decay ; 
it  stopped  in  1789,  after  running  more  than  two  hundred  years, 
and  in  1838  a  Strasburg  clockmaker  undertook  to  repair  and  im- 
prove it ;  so  I  suppose  it  is  finer  than  it  ever  was.  The  clock 
is  of  three  stories,  and  is  sixty  feet  high,  with  a  tower  in  which 
the  weights  are  contained.  There  was  a  little  crowd  of  people 
waiting  for  the  clock  to  strike  twelve,  and  when  the  hour  came, 
a  figure  representing  Time,  seated  in  a  niche  above  the  dial,  struck 
with  a  hammer  on  a  bell  which  he  held.  Then  Childhood  slowly 
passed  before  Time  and  struck  another  blow.  Every  quarter  of 
an  hour  in  the  hour,  a  new  figure  strikes :  at  quarter  after  twelve, 
Youth  would  strike  ;  at  half  after  twelve,  Manhood  ;  and,  at  a  quar- 
ter before  the  hour,  Old  Age ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  figure  at 


Porch  of   Strasburg  Cathedral. 


148  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

each  quarter  of  an  hour  turned  a  sand-glass.  Away  up  at  the  top 
was  a  figure  representing  the  Saviour,  and  now  the  twelve  Apostles 
began  to  march  past  him,  each  one  bowing  as  he  came  opposite, 
Avhile  he  waved  a  little  flag  over  them.  Then,  upon  the  top  of 
a  side  tower  was  a  cock,  which  flapped  its  wings  and  crowed  three 
times.  It  was  like  the  crow  of  a  very  young  cock.  Besides  this, 
Diana  came  out  of  a  niche  lower  down,  for  it  was  Monday,  and 
each  day  the  deity  whom  the  ancients  connected  with  the  day 
comes  out  and  shows  himself  or  herself.  Then  the  clock  sets  in 
motion  a  chime  of  bells;  so  you  see  I  had  to  keep  my  eyes  and 
ears  open  lest  I  should  miss  something.  I  am  very  much  afraid 
that  I  have  not  told  everything  that  was  to  be  seen  at  twelve 
o'clock ;  but  this  is  all  that  I  can  remember. 

"  *  I  wish  you  were  in  my  room  now.  I  am  in  a  hotel  called  the 
Trois  Rois,  or  the  Three  Kings,  and  my  room  has  a  little  balcony 
off  from  it  looking  out  upon  the  river  Rhine,  which  flows  directly 
past  the  hotel,  washing  its  walls  in  fact.  There  is  a  bridge  across 
the  river  just  below,  and  the  current  is  very  swift.  As  I  sat  on  the 
balcony  a  little  while  ago  eating  my  tea  and  honey,  I  saw  a  party 
of  swimmers,  who  were  making  very  little  motion  but  were  shoot- 
ing down  the  stream  with  a  rush.  They  had  started  far  above, 
and  a  boat  was  following  them  which  carried  their  clothes.  A  man 
was  standing  in  the  stern  steering  it,  while  the  swimmers  kept 
ahead  of  the  boat  and  seemed  almost  to  dance  through  the  water. 
In  two  or  three  minutes  they  were  far  below  the  bridge.  The  roofs 
here  have  a  window  which  overhangs  the  walls,  perhaps  for  a  crane 
to  haul  up  things  from  the  street  below.  They  look  as  if  they  were 
peeping  over  to  see  what  was  going  on  below.' ' 

"  Is  that  the  end,  Nathan  ?  "  asked  Phippy. 


THE   FAMOUS  ASTRONOMICAL   CLOCK. 


IN  THE  HIGH  COUNTRY. 


151 


"  Yes,  except,  '  Your  affectionate  father.' ' 

"  Well,  then,  I  '11  read  mine  ;  it  is  from  Vevey ;  listen.     '  I  have 
just  been  to  visit '  "  — 

"  Is  that  the  very  beginning,  Phippy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  except,  '  My  dear  Phippy.' ' 

"  Oh  well,  we  know  that.     Go  on." 

" '  I  have  just  been  to  visit  the  Castle  of  Chillon,  which  is  on  a 
rock  projecting  into  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  The  castle  is  an  old  one, 
but  see  why  I  and  thousands  of  other  people  visit  it.  An  English 
poet,  Lord  Byron,  once  wrote 
a  poem  upon  it,  and  ever 
since  people  have  passed 
many  other  castles  without 
stopping,  but  have  not  failed 
to  go  to  Villeneuve  to  see  the 
Castle  of  Chillon.  It  was  not 
long  after  Columbus  discov- 
ered America  that  Bonni- 
vard,  a  patriot  of  Geneva, 
was  confined  here  in  this 
castle.  In  those  days  pris- 
oners were  treated  often  with  great  cruelty.  Deep  in  the  castle 
are  dungeons,  dark  and  gloomy,  where  prisoners  were  confined. 
They  were  chained  to  stone  pillars,  and  the  guide  pointed  out  the 
one  to  which  Bonnivard  was  chained  for  six  years.  The  iron  ring 
to  which  his  chain  was  attached  is  still  there,  and  in  front  of  it 
a  hole  in  the  solid  rock  said  to  have  been  worn  by  the  action  pf 
his  feet  as  he  walked  up  and  down  for  eight  feet,  the  length  which 
his  chain  permitted  him.  There  is  a  room  into  which  I  went, 


Bonnivard   in  his   Dungeon. 


152  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

which  had  a  trap-door  in  it.  Sometimes,  when  prisoners  were  to  be 
executed,  the  door  was  opened  and  they  were  bidden  walk  down 
the  steps,  which  led  into  the  darkness  below.  The  fearful  man 
would  take  one  step,  two  steps,  three,  feeling  his  way  cautiously, 
but  when  he  felt  for  the  fourth,  he  would  plunge  down  (for  there 
was  'no  fourth  step),  down,  down,  eighty  feet  into  the  lake  below. 
Let  us  hope  that  some  of  them  went  down  feet  foremost,  struck 
the  water  with  their  toes,  and  were  not  too  stunned  to  swim 
ashore. 

"  *  Now  I  must  tell  you  of  my  visit  to  the  Baths  of  Leuk.     If 
Cousin  Ned  is  with  you  he  will  tell  you  to  pronounce  that  word'" — 
"  Loik,"  said  Ned  promptly. 
"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  father  says." 

"  '  There  is  a  little  village  shut  in  by  such  a  wall  of  rocks  on  all 
sides  but  one  that  you  would  never  think  it  possible  to  get  out  of  it 
save  by  the  winding  valley  that  leads  up  to  the  base  of  the  rock, 
unless,  indeed,  you  were  an  Alpine  Goat ;  but  wait  a  bit  till  I  have 
told  you  about  the  baths.  There  are  some 
warm  springs  of  mineral  water,  and  so  abun- 
dant that  nine  tenths  of  the  water  flows  away 
unused.  The  other  tenth  is  saved  for  bathing, 
and  people  come  from  far  and  near  to  be  cured 
of  rheumatism.  I  think  I  would  willingly  suf- 
fer a  good  many  twinges  before  I  submitted  to 
the  treatment.  Four  hours  in  the  morning 
and  four  in  the  afternoon,  do  the  patients  have 
Alpine  Goat.  to  stand  or  sit  up  to  their  chins  in  hot  water. 

This  would  be  so  stupid  in  solitude  that  they  bathe  in  one  great 
room,  all  clad  in  some  coarse  stout  garments.  I  went  in  to  see 


"frV   THE  HIGH  COUNTRY.  153 

them,  for  the  baths  are  open  to  visitors.  The  steam  from  the  water 
was  very  hot  and  I  began  to  perspire  at  once,  but  I  think  I  should 
have  laughed  myself  into  a  heat  besides  if  I  had  not  been  restrained 
by  politeness.  There  were  twenty  or  thirty  poor  wretches  floating, 
about  in  the  water,  their  heads  just  out  and  looking  very  unhappy 
indeed.  Each  one  had  a  little  floating  table  before  him,  on  which 
he  had  taken  his  breakfast.  Some  played  dominoes,  but  one  of 
them,  an  Englishman  whom  I  had  met  on  the  way  up,  and  who  was 
splashing  about  in  a  melancholy  fashion,  said  they  were  apt  to  drop 
the  pieces  into  the  water,  and  then  they  had  to  dive  for  them.  I 
never  saw  such  uncomfortable  looking  people.  They  seemed  to 
look  beseechingly  at  me  standing  there  clothed  and  dry,  while  they 
were  boiling,  boiling  in  that  horrid  vat.  A  man  sat  in  a  balcony 
and  played  some  dismal  kind  of  hurdy-gurdy,  and  when  he  stopped 
the  poor  things  clapped  their  hands  and  chirped,  as  if  they  never 
had  heard  anything  so  delightful.  Then,  for  amusement,  they 
squirted  water  at  each  other,  though  that,  I  believe,  is  against  the 
rules.  When  the  time  for  the  end  of  the  bath  comes,  an  attendant 
opens  a  little  door  and  each  one  floats  out  in  turn  to  a  dressing- 
room.  They  have  to  go  to  bed  for  an  hour  after  each  bath.  I  am 
sure  I  should  want  to  take  a  bath  after  I  came  out,  to  wash  off  that 
hot  water. 

"  '  I  said  that  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  of  getting  out  of  the 
place  except  by  the  little  valley  that  led  up  to  it,  but  really  there 
is, — one  of  the  famous  mountain  passes  of  Switzerland,  the  Gemmi. 
At  first  you  do  not  see  any  crack  in  that  massive  mountain  wall, 
which  hems  in  the  valley.  You  almost  expect  to  see  a  wizard  touch 
some  secret  spring  in  the  rock  and  open  a  mysterious  door,  but  as 
you  come  nearer  the  precipice  you  begin  to  see  a  narrow  path.  I 


154 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


climbed  it  one  morning  early.  It  goes  up  by  a  most  zigzag  route, 
the  path  being  often  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  making  such 
short  turns  that  it  seemed  almost  impossible  there  should  be  any 
way  of  getting  further.  I  constantly  found  myself  as  if  on  a  mere 
shelf,  looking  down  five  hundred  feet  of  precipice.  It  was  one  of 
the  hottest  walks  I  ever  took,  for  the  sun  shone  steadily  on  me,  and 

it  was  only  once  in  a  while 
that  I  could  find  any  little 
dark  corner  to  crawl  into 
and  keep  cool  there  for  a 
few  minutes.  The  path  is 
four  or  five  feet  wide,  and 
protected  sometimes  by 
parapets  at  the  side,  but 
they  were  not  parapets  that 
I  should  have  enjoyed  lean- 
ing over.  I  went  up  on 
foot,  but  coming  down  I  met 
my  Englishman  going  up  on 
a  donkey,  and  it  was  evi- 
dently serious  business  with 
him. 

"  i  On  another  side  of  the 
valley   where    there   is   no 
pass,  there  is  what  is  called 
lfheshoulds"p  The    Ladders.      The    people 

here  perch  their  villages  often  upon  almost  inaccessible  heights, 
where  they  live  a  primitive  life  with  their  flocks  and  herds,  making 
cheese  and  butter.  There  is  such  a  village  in  Albinen,  which  has 


IN  THE  HIGH  COUNTRY. 


155 


a  path  leading  down  to  the  Khone,  but  is  nearest  to  the  Baths 
of  Leuk,  except  that  a  straight  line  to  that  town  is  a  perpendicu- 
lar line.  Yet  the  Baths  give  them  a  market.  If  the  people  of 
Albinen  were  richer,  they  would  have  hewn  an  ingenious  path 
down  the  precipice,  like  the  Gemmi;  but  being  poor  they  have 
hung  a  succession  of  eight  ladders,  up  and  down  which  they  go, 
men,  women,  and  children,  whenever  they  wish  to  visit  the  place. 
I  climbed  to  the  top  and  got  some  charming  views,  but  it  certainly 
is  a  droll  way  to  reach  a  village,  to  go  up  stairs  to  it.  The  mode 
of  dress  of  the  women  has  undergone  a  change  in  consequence  of 
this  way  of  traveling,  and  they  all 
wear  something  like  a  Bloomer  cos- 
tume.' " 

"  Well,  I  've  got  a  surprise  for  you,"* 
said  Lucy,  as  Phippy  finished  her  let- 
ter.     She  had  been  peeping  into  her 
own  letter  and  had  caught  sight  of  a 
word  or  two. 

"  What !  is  papa  coming  home  right 
away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  guess.  You  may 
just  listen." 

"  '  This  is  almost  the  end  of  Switz- 
erland for  me,  for  I  shall  go  directly 
to  Geneva  and  Paris  from  here,  on  my 
way  home.  I  have  often  thought  as  I 
have  been  traveling  how  much  I  should 

v> 

like  to  have  my  little  Lucy  with  me,  walking  along  the  road  or 
ridino-  on  a  donkey.     All  the  people  here  walk,  men  and  boys, 


A  Swiss  Peasant  Woman. 


156 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


women  and  girls.  You  see  women  with  big  baskets  strapped  to 
their  backs  trotting  along  the  roads  as  if  they  never  had  heard  of 
a  horse  or  pair  of  wheels.  You  will  have  to  grow  strong,  though, 


Swiss  Chalets. 


before  you  can  see  everything  there  is  to  see  here.  I  should  like 
to  show  you  the  houses,  or  chalets  as  they  are  called,  with  great 
rocks  laid  upon  the  roofs,  to  keep  them  from  blowing  away,  and 


IN   THE   HIGH  COUNTRY. 


157 


balconies  reached  by  ladders  from  below,  and  quaint  texts  carved 
in  the  wood.     I  should  like,  too,  to  show  you  the  waterfalls.     There 


Climbing  the  Alps  in  Imaginaion. 


is  one  valley  which  I  visited  called  Lauterbrunnen,  which  means 


158  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  nothing  but  springs ; "  and  so  you  would  say,  for  the  rocks  seem 
bursting  everywhere  with  water,  as  if  there  were  a  vast  reservoir 
behind,  and  there  were  leaks  or  places  where  faucets  had  been  left 
open.  As  if  that  were  not  enough  it  began  to  rain,  and  to  rain 
hard,  too,  so  we  were  dinned  by  water  in  every  direction.  There 
was  a  lovely  waterfall,  the  Staubbach,  or  Dust  Brook,  a  little  mount- 
ain brook,  that,  hurrying  down  the  hill  suddenly  comes  to  the  edge 
of  a  precipice  nine  hundred  feet  high,  and,  pop !  over  it  goes,  fall- 
ing so  far  that  the  very  water  is  shattered,  and  seems  to  rise  and 
fall  in  the  air  like  dust,  until  striking  a  projecting  rock  near  the 
ground  it  gets  body  again  and  scrambles  down  to  the  valley.  It 
is  like  the  falling  fire  from  a  rocket  of  golden  rain,  except  that  it 
is  water  and  not  fire. 

"  '  I  have  climbed  some  high  mountains,  but  always  on  my  own 
feet.  Sometimes  I  have  come  upon  parties  on  horse  or  donkey 
back,  and  they  are  pushed  and  pulled  often  by  the  guides,  so  that 
I  should  think  they  would  all  be  more  anxious  about  how  they  got 
to  the  top  than  what  they  saw  after  they  got  there.  Here  at  Cha- 
mounix  I  am  right  under  Mont  Blanc,  the  greatest  of  all  the  Swiss 
mountains,  but  hallo  !  — 

" '  What  do  you  think,  Lucy  !  You  never  will  guess.  Just  as  I 
had  written  so  far,  I  happened  to  look  out  of  the  window,  and  there, 
coming  down  the  road  on  a  donkey,  was  —  Hen ! ' 

"  What,  Hen !  our  Hen  !  "  exclaimed  Phippy.  "  Away  off  there 
in  Switzerland !  " 

"  Oh,  let 's  hear,  Phippy,"  said  Nathan.  "  I  '11  warrant  he  had 
some  tall  story  to  tell  papa." 

"  '  I  rubbed  my  eyes,'  "  went  on  Lucy,  "  '  and  looked  again.  There 
was  no  mistake.  I  jumped  up,  clapped  on  my  hat,  and  ran  out  of 


IN   THE  HIGH  COUNTRY.  150 

the  house.     Hen  was  sitting  on  the  donkey,  looking  about  on  the 
mountains  as  calmly  as  if  he  were  on  our  barn  floor. 

"  '  How  d'  ye  do,  Mr.  Bodley  ? '  said  he,  when  I  came  up.  <  This 
is  quite  a  country.  That 's  Mount  Blank,  is  it  ? '  and  he  looked  at 
it  critically.  '  Well,  I  'd  'bout  as  lieve  see  Mount  Washington. 
'T  is  n't  much  after  the  Himalayas.' 

"  '  Now,  Hen,'  said  I,  '  don't  pretend  you  ever  saw  the  Hima- 
layas.' He  looked  at  me  a  moment  in  that  curious  way  he  has, 
looked  at  the  guide  who  was  with  him,  and  then  said,  '  Well, 
p'r'aps  he  doos  n't  understand  very  well,  but  I  go  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  making  light  of  the  scenery  round  here.  They  think  so 
much  of  it,  and  if  you  go  into  fits  over  it  they  charge  you  just 
so  much  extra.  Well,  how  d'  ye  do,  any  way  ?  '  and  he  shook 
hands  again.  '  How  d'  ye  leave  them  all  at  home  ?  I  'd  like  to  see 
that  little  Lucy  again ;  but  I  've  got  something  in  my  chest  for 
her.' " 

"Oh,  what  is  it,  Lucy?"  asked  Phippy,  eagerly. 

"  He  does  n't  say.  Papa  does  n't  say.  I  don't  believe  he  asked 
Hen." 

"  Go  on,  Lucy." 

.  "  '  Hen  had  come  to  Marseilles  from  New  York,  and  had  taken  it 
into  his  head  to  visit  Switzerland.  He  was  traveling  all  alone,  and 
his  one  idea  seemed  to  be  to  hurry  by  all  the  important  places 
and  always  stop  at  a  little  resting-place  farther  on.  So  now  he 
was  passing  through  Chamounix  to  Les  Ouches.  His  guide-book 
told  him  the  place  was  famous  for  its  honey,  so  he  was  bound  for 
Les  Ouches,  he  said,  to  get  a  sticky  supper.  He  admitted  that  he 
found  it  difficult  to  teach  his  guides  what  he  wanted,  He  had  been 
on  this  donkey  all  the  way  from  Martigny,  and  seemed  quite 


160  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

attached  to  him.  If  he  ever  gets  back  to  Roxbury  you  may  be 
sure  that  there  will  be  no  place  in  Switzerland  which  he  has  left 
unvisited.'  ' 

"  Good  for  Hen  !  "  cried  Ned.  "  To  think  of  Uncle  Charles  dis- 
covering him  there  in  Chamounix !  I  can  imagine  the  coolness  with 
which  Hen  greeted  uncle,  as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  for  them  to  have  met  just  there." 

"  I  do  believe  Hen  will  get  back  first,"  said  Nathan.  "  I  expect 
to  see  him  come  up  the  avenue  on  his  donkey." 

"A  donkey  would  be  a  fine  addition  to  our  household,"  said 
Phippy. 

The  letters  and  chat  had  kept  them  busy,  and  the  afternoon  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  so  they  packed  the  remains  of  their  lunch, 
covered  the  baskets  of  berries  with  paper,  and  drove  back  to  Tarn- 
worth.  The  next  day  Mrs.  Bodley  made  blackberry  jam  and  pre- 
served blackberries,  and  blackberry  wine,  and  blackberry  cordial. 
The  jars  and  bottles  were  all  safely  packed,  and  in  two  days  more 
they  were  at  home  again  in  Roseland,  very  much  refreshed  by  their 
little  excursion. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  JOURNEY  ROUND  THE  GARDEN. 


NOT  long  after  the  family  returned  from  Tamworth,  Ned's  last 
college  year  began,  and.  he  left  Roseland  before  his  uncle  had  re- 
turned from  Europe.  The  schools,  too,  in  Roxbury  had  opened 
again,  and  the  children  were  busy  with  their  books,  but  the  days 


A   JOURNEY  ROUND   THE   GARDEN.  161 

were  still  long,  and  much  of  their  time  was  passed  out  of  doors. 
Their  father's  letters  home  and  their  own  excursion  to  the  mount- 
ains had  filled  their  heads  with  the  notion  of  travel,  and  all  their 
sports  were  in  that  direction.  They  crossed  and  recrossed  the 
United  States  in  Paul  Bodley's  pasture  with  untiring  enthusiasm, 
and  laid  new  railroads  in  the  wilderness,  and  even  founded  towns, 
at  what  they  regarded  favorable  points,  not  yet  reached  by  ordi- 
nary emigrants.  But  so  constant  a  tramping  on  the  field  made  sad 
havoc  with  the  boundaries,  and  they  were  compelled  every  little 
while  to  stop  their  traveling  and  do  a  little  engineering  and  survey- 
ing again  of  the  coast.  The  gradual  obliteration  of  the  United 
States  lessened  their  ardor  somewhat,  and  they  began  to  neglect 
this  play. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Nathan,"  said  Phippy  one  day  at  dinner,  "  to 
making  a  Europe  ?  We  might  travel  over  papa's  route  then,  or  we 
might  make  the  two  hemispheres  and  sail  across  the  Atlantic  be- 
tween them." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  we  could,"  said  Nathan.  "  There  isn't  room 
to  do  them  on  a  large  scale,  and  it  would  be  no  fun  to  have  to  step 
carefully,  lest  we  should  be  in  London  on  one  leg  and  in  Paris  on 
the  other." 

"  Besides,  Cousin  Ned  is  n't  here,"  added  Lucy. 

"I  wish  we  could  make  a  real  journey  of  discovery,"  said  Phippy. 

"  That  is  not  so  difficult "  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  There  was  a 
Frenchman  once  who  wrote  a  book  which  he  called  '  A  Journey 
round  my  Room,'  and  another  Frenchman  has  followed  his  example 
with  '  A  Journey  round  my  Garden.'  Now  if  you  children  wish 
to  be  real  travelers,  you  must  learn  how  to  travel  at  home,  and  to 

see  what  lies  under  your  eyes.      Why  do   you  not  sally  out  and 
11 


162  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

make  voyages  of  discovery  to  day  ?  It  is  Wednesday  afternoon,  and 
you  have  no  school.  Set  out  in  different  directions,  and  at  tea  you 
can  give  an  account  of  your  travels.  Only  I  would  make  it  a  rule 
not  to  go  out  of  our  own  place.  I  am  sure  you  will  see  some  things 
you  never  saw  before." 

The  children  entered  into  the  plan  with  enthusiasm.  Phippy 
armed  herself  with  a  note-book,  in  which  she  said  she  meant  to  keep 
a  journal ;  Nathan  slung  a  satchel  over  his  shoulder  and  carried  his 
pocket  spy-glass  and  compass ;  while  Lucy  said  she  meant  to  ex- 
plore the  world  under  protection  of  Nep,  the  dog,  whom  she  took 
with  her.  They  gathered  under  the  library  window  to  take  leave 
of  their  native  land,  and  then  set  out  in  different  directions.  Mrs. 
Bodley  watched  them  as  they  walked  away,  but  did  not  see  them 
again  until  just  before  tea  time,  when  they  all  came  up  the  avenue 
together. 

"  What,  have  you  been  traveling  in  company,  after  all  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Oh  no,  it  was  the  most  surprising  thing,"  said  Nathan  ;  "  we  all 
met  near  the  gate.  We  thought  perhaps  there  would  be  an  illu- 
mination or  some  guns  fired  on  the  return  of  the  great  explorers, 
but  it  seems  pretty  quiet." 

"  I  hear  the  supper  bell  ringing  now,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  and 
all  the  people  will  assemble  at  the  table  to  hear  the  stories  of  the 
celebrated  travelers.  You  know  when  great  travelers  come  back 
the  Historical  Society  gives  them  a  dinner  or  supper.  I  will  be  the 
Historical  Society,  and  invite  you  to  an  entertainment."  So  they 
all  marched  into  the  house,  and  after  the  celebrated  travelers  had 
washed  off  their  stains,  the  Historical  Society  received  them  at  the 
supper  table,  where  an  unusual  feast  of  good  things  had  been  pre- 
pared. 


A   JOURNEY  ROUND   THE   GARDEN.  163 

"  We  '11  go  off  again,"  said  Nathan  enthusiastically,  "  if  this  is  the 
reception  we  are  to  get  on  coming  back." 

"  You  must  show  that  you  have  brought  back  something  worth 
feasting  you  for,"  said  the  Historical  Society  with  dignity.  "  Will 
Miss  Lucy  Bodley,  the  youngest  of  the  three  travelers,  favor  the 
Society  with  an  account  of  her  adventures  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  were  n't  adventures,"  said  Lucy.  "  There  was  just  one 
new  thing  that  I  saw,  besides  all  the  old  ones.  But  I  '11  tell  you 
about  it." 

LUCY'S   STORY. 

"  I  went  down  the  Hollow,  because  that  was  the  first  place  I  went 
to  when  we  came  to  Roseland.  I  was  a  little  bit  of  a  girl  then,  and 
I  remember  that  I  saw  a  hand-organ  man  and  his  little  girl  Lisa ; 
but  this  time  there  was  nobody  about,  and  I  went  inio  the  past- 
ure by  the  old  well  and  across  the  pasture.  Nep  was  with  me  and 
I  did  not  feel  afraid,  and  I  wanted  very  much  to  see  exactly  what 
there  was,  clear  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  pasture.  You  know 
there  's  a  house  over  there  where  Mrs.  Airly,  who  sometimes  comes 
here  to  wash,  lives,  and  I  thought  I  would  call  that  a  foreign  coun- 
try, because  Mrs.  Airly  is  an  Irish  woman,  and  see  what  I  could  see 
there.  Whes  I  got  to  the  house  Mrs.  Airly  was  in  the  yard  and 
knew  me.  '  Come  in,'  said  she  ;  '  I  've  got  a  little  niece  with  me  just 
about  as  old  as  you  are/  —  I  can't  talk  Irish,  so  I  won't  try,  —  *  and 
she  'd  like  to  see  you  !  I  never  knew  she  had  any  children  in  the 
house,  but  I  knew  you  would  let  me  go  in,  mamma,  and  I  was  very 
much  surprised  when  I  went  in  to  see  a  little  girl  sitting  by  the 
window.  There  was  a  crutch  by  her  side,  and  then  I  saw  why  Mrs. 
Airly  asked  me  to  come  in  instead  of  asking  her  niece  to  come  out 


164 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


to  see  me.  She  lives  in  Wrentham,  but  had  come  over  to  visit  her 
aunt,  and  she  had  a  beautiful  geranium  on  the  window-seat  by  her. 
I  asked  her  where  she  got  it,  and  she  said  she  brought  it  with  her, 
because  she  did  n't  dare  to  leave  it  at  home.  She  patted  the  pot 


Mrs.   Early's   Niece 


with  her  hand  ;  and  I  asked  Mrs.  Airly  if  I  might  bring  Nep  in,  and 
she  said  I  might,  and  so  Nep  came  in,  and  Emily,  that  was  the  little 
girl's  name,  was  a  little  afraid  of  him  at  first,  but  pretty  soon  she 
patted  him,  and  she  was  such  a  nice  little  girl  that  I  stayed  there 


A    JOURNEY  ROUND   THE   GARDEN.  165 

all  the  afternoon.     I  was  sure  you  would  let  me,  mamma,  for  I  have 
heard  you  say  that  Mrs.  Airly  was  a  very  good  woman." 

"  Her  name  is  n't  Airly,"  broke  in  Nathan.  "  It 's  Early.  Don't 
you  know  the  line  — 

'  Call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother  dear.' 

That 's  her  name,  but  she  says  '  Call  me  airly.' ' 

"  The  little  girl  called  her  Aunt  Becky.  I  think  I  should  like  to 
go  to  see  her  again,  and  take  her  some  of  my  playthings." 

"  Well,  Lucy's  journey  was  a  sensible  one,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley. 
"  She  discovered  a  new  person,  and  that  was  certainly  like  going  to 
a  foreign  country.  Now  let  us  hear  Phippy's  account."  Phippy 
immediately  produced  a  very  crumpled  piece  of  paper,  which  she 
called  her  log-book,  and  consulted  occasionally  with  a  critical  eye. 

PHIPPY'S   STORY. 

"  Left  Eoseland  Castle  at  3.30  P.  M.,  the  governess  of  the  castle  — 
that's  you,  mamma  —  waving  a  flag,  —  that's  a  pocket  handker- 
chief, you  know.  Steered  about  due  east  "  — 

"  Why,  Phippy,  you  did  n't  go  to  sea,"  said  Nathan. 

"  No  matter,  I  steered,  —  there  's  wind  on  land  is  n't  there  ?  — 
and  made  for  the  Grove.  Visited  Samson's  Nut  Cracker,  the  Gorge, 
and  P.  Bodley's  tomb.  All  these  I  had  seen  before.  Bore  away 
to  the  northeast,  and,  let  me  see,  by  4  p.  M."  — 

"  You  did  n't  have  any  watch,  Phippy." 

"  There  were  four  o'clocks  there,  —  you  know  there  were,"  said 
she,  triumphantly.  "  And  by  four  o'clock,  by  several  of  them,  in 
fact,  followed  along  the  pasture  wall  till  I  came  near  Mr.  Porter's 
orchard.  There  wasn't  anything  to  see  on  our  continent,  so  I 


166  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

looked  over  the  wall  and  saw  Johnny  Porter  sitting  on  the  ground, 
and  Tom  Porter  pulling  a  branch  down  to  get  some  apples. 

"  '  Hallo,  Tom  Porter,'  said  I. 

"  '  Hallo,'  said  he. 

"  '  Getting  apples  ?  '  said  I. 

"  '  Yes,'  said  he. 

"  '  What  kind  are  they  ? '  said  I. 

"  '  Porter,'  said  he." 

"  Oh,  come,  Phippy,  don't  spin  out  your  story  so." 

"  That 's  the  way  they  do  in  story  books,"  said  Phippy.  "  That 
would  make  several  lines  if  it  was  printed,  and  it  would  be  very 
easy  reading.  You  'd  get  right  to  the  bottom  of  the  page  and  turn 
over  before  you  were  tired." 

"  Well,"  said  Nathan,  "  I  should  very  soon  get  tired  of  that  stuff. 
Did  you  stay  and  play  with  those  boys  all  the  afternoon  ?  " 

"  No,  I  came  back  and  played  with  them.  I  went  off  first  round 
the  pasture,  almost  to  Mrs.  Early's,  and  then  I  went  back,  and  Tom 
and  Johnny  were  still  in  the  orchard. 

"  '  Hallo,  Johnny,'  said  I. 

"'Hallo,'  said  he." 

"  Come,  now,  Phippy,  you  're  giving  us  that  stuff  right  over 
again." 

"  No,  I  'm  not,  it  was  Tom  Porter  before  ;  it 's  Johnny  this 
time." 

"  Well,  did  he  say  they  were  Porter  apples,  too  ?  " 

"I  didn't  ask  him." 

u  What  did  you  ask  him  ?  " 

"  That 's  just  what  I  was  going  to  tell  when  you  interrupted.  I 
asked  him  if  he  'd  show  me  his  rabbits,  and  he  did,  and  they  were 
so  cunning  I  forgot  to  look  for  anything  else." 


PORTER   APPLES. 


A  JOURNEY  ROUND  THE  GARDEN. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  «  Phippy  seems  to  have  visited  a  zoo- 
logical garden.  What  did  you  see,  Nathan  ?  Where  did  you  go  ?  " 

NATHAN'S   ADVENTURE. 

"  Well,  I  went  away  down  to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  place,  to 
that  mound  where  the  spruce-tree  is,  and  climbed  it  to  see  if  I 
could  see  the  harbor  from  there.  I  always  thought  I  could  and 
meant  to  try.  I  got  rather  sticky,  but  I  could  see  the  water  and  I 
could  make  out  the  smoke  of  a  steamer." 

"  Why,  we  can  see  that  any  day  from  the  play-room  up  stairs," 
said  Phippy. 

'  Yes,  but  I  saw  it  from  the  spruce-tree.  I  was  perched  up  there 
when  I  saw  a  man  coming  along  the  road,  who  got  up  on  the  wall 
and  climbed  over  and  lay  down  inside.  I  did  n't  know  exactly  what 
to  do.  I  was  n't  exactly  afraid  "  — 

"  Oh  no." 

"  I  say,  I  was  n't  exactly  afraid,  and  I  did  n't  want  the  poor  man 
to  be  afraid  of  me,  so  after  a  while  I  began  to  whistle.  He  pricked 
up  his  ears  and  looked  about  him,  and  I  whistled  again.  Then  he 
looked  up,  and  spied  me.  I  thought  I  'd  speak  first. 

"  '  I  hope  you  've  enjoyed  your  nap,'  said  I. 

"  '  What  are  you  doing  up  in  that  tree  ? '  said  he.  You  'd  have 
thought  he  owned  the  tree  by  the  way  he  spoke. 

" '  I  'm  looking  at  that  steamer,'  said  I,  pointing  across  to  the 
smoke.  '  You  can  see  the  harbor  from  up  here  ! '  I  spoke  in  such 
a  kind,  friendly  way  that  I  don't  think  he  was  frightened  any  more, 
and  he  did  n't  think  it  necessary  to  look  so  fierce.  He  was  sitting 
up  by  this  time. 

"  '  I  would  n't  climb  a  tree  to  look  at  a  steamer,'  said  he. 


170 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


"  '  But  you  can't  see  it  down  there,'  said  I." 

"  Seems  to  me  your  story  is  modeled  on  mine,  Nathan,"  said 
Phippy. 

"  It 's  a  true  story,  Phippy.  I  can't  remember  all  the  conversa- 
tion. Boys  never  can,  but  girls  do.  Anyway  he  got  to  talking 


about  steamers  and  the  harbor,  and  he  said  he  crossed  Boston  Har- 
bor that  time,  you  know,  when  it  was  all  frozen  over,  and  saw  a 
steamer  cut  its  way  through  the  ice  —  don't  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Phippy,  "  I  remember,  and  always  thought  it  a 
pity  we  could  n't  go.  But  what  became  of  the  man'?  " 

"  Oh,  he  stayed  and  stayed,  he  enjoyed  my  conversation  so  much, 


A  JOURNEY  ROUND  THE  GARDEN. 

and  at  length  he  went  away,  and  when  he  had  gone  far  enough  not 
to  come  back  I  shinned  down." 

"  Well,  Nathan,"  said  his  mother,  "  you  seem  to  have  been  dis- 
creet in  your  journeying.  When  you  fell  in  with  the  natives  you 
parleyed  with  them  at  a  safe  distance.  Perhaps  discretion  is  a  more 
valuable  quality  than  courage  in  traveling,  but  both  are  sometimes 
needed." 

Just  then  Martin  came,  bringing  a  letter  from  the  post-office.  It 
was  addressed  to  Lucy. 

"  It  is  from  Cousin  Ned,"  said  she,  recognizing  the  handwriting, 
which  was  written  with  great  plainness  for  Lucy's  benefit.  She 
opened  the  envelope.  "  Why,  there  's  no  letter  at  all ;  it 's  one  of 
his  little  stories."  Sure  enough,  Ned  had  amused  himself  writing 
a  story  for  Lucy,  and  oddly  enough  it  was  a  story  of  travel,  so  it 
came  just  in  the  nick  of  time,  as  an  end  to  this  Journey  round  the 
Garden. 


172 


MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 


THE   OBSTINATE  WEATHERCOCK. 


That  no  one  could  say ; 
but  everybody  could  see 
it  upon  the  school-house 
belfry,  and  everybody  did 
see  it.  "  We  shall  have  a 
storm  to-day,  the  old  ship 
is  sailing  east,"  the  people 
would  say,  as  they  looked 
at  it ;  or,  "  Fair  weather 
to-day,  the  captain  's  look- 
ing westward."  When 
the  bell  in  the  belfry 
rang  the  children  into 
school  the  ship  trembled, 
but  it  kept  on  its  course. 

And  what  was  its  course  ?     Always  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind. 
It  was  a  full-rigged  ship,  all  sails  set,  and  the  captain  standing 

on  the  poop.     He  always  stood  there,  rain  or  shine,  fair  weather 

or  foul,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  —  such  a  faithful  captain  was  he. 

His  hands  were  in  his  pockets,  and  his  tarpaulin  was  cocked  on  the 


A   JOURNEY  ROUND    THE   GARDEN.  173 

side  of  his  head.  Captain  Prim,  the  children  called  him.  Captain 
Prim  had  always  sailed  this  ship.  He  could  not  remember  the  time 
when  he  had  sailed  any  other.  It  was  a  long  memory,  too,  that  the 
captain  had.  He  could  remember  the  time  when  he  lived  in  the 
same  house  with  a  golden  cock  and  a  galloping  horse  and  a  locomo- 
tive. Where  were  they  now  ?  Gone,  no  one  knew  where,  while 
the  captain  —  Captain  Prim  —  was  still  sailing  his  ship.  You  may 
believe  that  the  captain  thought  none  the  worse  of  himself  for : 
that. 

Captain  Prim  was  always  ready  to  put  his  ship  about  whenever 
he  saw  a  change  of  wind  coming.  At  the  slightest  touch  on  his 
bronzed  cheek,  he  would  sing  out :  "  Haul  away  on  the  main  sheet ! 
Belay  there !  "  and  round  the  ship  would  come,  and  the  captain 
would  look  straight  ahead  and  be  ready  for  the  next  tack. 

Whither  was  he  bound  ?  Ah,  that 's  the  question.  You  could 
not  have  got  it  from  the  captain,  but  I  will  tell  you.  Although 
he  looked  so  sturdy  and  knowing,  deep  down  in  his  brave  little 
heart  was  his  secret,  —  he  wanted  to  get  out  upon  the  open  sea. 
It  vexed  him  to  be  always  in  sight  of  land.  He  could  n't  get  away 
from  the  dreadful  mountains  all  about  him,  and  once  in  a  great 
while,  wrhen  there  was  a  fog,  he  was  terribly  anxious  lest  his  ship 
should  go  on  the  rocks.  So  it  wras  that  night  and  day  he  kept  his 
post  and  sailed  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind,  for  those  were  his  sailing 
orders.  "  Captain,"  said  a  man  whom  he  had  known  in  his  early 
days,  "  always  sail  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind  and  you  '11  do  your 
duty." 

One  day  he  was  startled  by  seeing  a  head  looking  at  him  over 
the  rail. 

"  I  say,  there,"  said  the  head,  "  want  a  passenger  ?  "  and  before 


174  MR-   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

the  captain  could  answer  the  stranger  had  climbed  over  the  rail 
and  stood  on  the  deck,  where  he  shook  himself. 

"  Pretty  dusty,  eh  !  " 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  growled  the  captain.  "  Land-lubber !  dusty ! 
out  at  sea  !  " 

"  Hear  him  !  "  laughed  the  passenger.  "  Why,  captain,  you 
have  n't  started  yet." 

"When  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  young  stranger,"  —  began 
Captain  Prim. 

"  When  you  've  traveled  as  far  as  I  have,"  began  the  passenger, 
"you'll  know  whether  it  *s  dusty  or  not." 

Captain  Prim  longed  to  ask  him  where  he  had  come  from,  but 
his  pride  prevented. 

"May  be  it  isn't  dusty  between  here  and  Colorado.  May  be 
these  hills  are  n't  pretty  rough  climbing.  I  'm  tired  of  it.  I  'm 
ready  for  a  voyage.  Pull  up  your  anchor  and  weigh  it.  Oh,  I 
know  a  thing  or  two  about  the  sea;  just  weigh  your  anchor  and 
tell  me  how  heavy  it  is,  cap'n." 

"  Who  are  you,  any  way  ? "  asked  the  captain,  his  curiosity 
getting  the  better  of  his  pride. 

"  I  ?  Did  n't  you  ever  see  one  of  my  family  before  ?  Why, 
I  'm  a  Potato  Bug.  I  have  had  enough  of  this  country.  I  'm 
going  abroad." 

Just  then  the  wind  veered  a  little. 

"  Haul  away  on  the  main  sheet ! "  cried  the  captain,  and  the 
Potato  Bug,  not  seeing  anybody  at  work,  put  his  head  down  the 
hatchway  and  repeated  the  order. 

"  I  say,  chambermaid,  the  cap'n  wants  you ; "  but  no  one  an- 
swered. 


A   JOURNEY  ROUND   THE  GARDEN.  175 

"  Well,  this  is  a  ghostly  ship,"  said  the  Potato  Bug.  "  I  'm  not 
going  to  work  my  passage." 

"  Belay  there ! "  cried  the  captain,  as  the  ship  swung  round  and 
was  still  again. 

"  Oh,  we  're  going  now,  are  we  ?  "  asked  the  passenger ;  "  this  is 
comfortable,"  and  he  crossed  his  legs.  "But  I  say,  cap'n,"  he 
began  again,  pretty  soon,  "  we  don't  get  ahead.  I  've  been  watch- 
ing that  meeting-house  and  it  does  n't  move  a  particle.  It  ought 
to.  It  ought  to  look  as  if  it  was  moving.  Oh,  I  know  something 
about  motion." 

"  Mind  your  business,"  said  the  captain,  badly  frightened;  He, 
too,  had  always  had  an  eye  on  that  meeting-house,  when  the  wind 
was  in  the  west,  and  it  bothered  him  that  he  should  never  seem 
to  get  by  it. 

"Well,  I  think  I  will.  I'll  get  out  of  this  Flying  Dutchman," 
said  the  Potato  Bug.  getting  up  and  climbing  over  the  rail  again. 
"  I  'm  a  live  passenger,  I  am.  I  'm  used  to  getting  ahead  in  the 
world.  You  may  stay  and  sail  to  nowhere,  if  you  want  to.  Good- 
by  !  "  and  he  dropped  over  the  side. 

"  He  's  an  ignorant  land-lubber,"  said  Captain  Prim,  breathing 
a  little  more  freely,  but  not  daring  yet  to  look  at  the  meeting- 
house again.  He  could  see  the  Potato  Bug,  a  distant  speck  out 
on  the  end  of  the  school-house,  and  then  the  Potato  Bug  was  gone. 
But  Captain  Prim,  now  that  he  was  alone  again,  kept  firmly  to  his 
post.  His  hands  were  in  his  pockets,  the  tarpaulin  was  cocked  on 
the  side  of  his  head,  and  he  kept  his  ship  head  on  to  the  wind. 
Obstinate  fellow ! 

And  what  became  of  the  Potato  Bug  ?  He  had  more  traveling 
to  do.  He  thought  he  would  just  look  off  over  the  roof  of  the 


176 


MR.   BODLEY,  ABROAD. 


school-house,  and  make  up  his  mind  where  to  go  next,  but  it  made 
him  dizzy,  and  down  he  dropped  to  the  ground.  Young  McPherson 
found  him  there  lying  on  his  back. 

"  That 's  a  fine  specimen  !  "  said  he.  "  I  '11  send  him  home  to 
the  old  folks." 

But  the  old  folks  lived  in  Scotland,  and  so  Potato  Bug  had  to 
travel  in  an  envelope  across  the  ocean.  In  the  darkness  of  that 
sealed  envelope  he  thought  of  Captain  Prim. 

"  Perhaps  he  knew  what  he  was  about.  Perhaps  he  was  doing 
his  duty,"  Potato  Bug  said  faintly  to  himself.  "  If  ever  I  go  to 
sea  again,  I  '11  go  in  Captain  Prim's  ship." 

But  he  never  went  to  sea  again.     He  died  of  too  much  travel. 


DIVERS   STORIES.  177 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

DIVERS    STORIES. 

ONE  day  in  September,  Martin  was  in  the  stable  early  in  the 
morning,  dressing  Mr.  Bottom  and  giving  him  his  breakfast.  To 
dress  him  he  took  him  to  a  corner  of  the  barn,  fastened  his  halter 
to  an  iron  ring  that  hung  there,  and  proceeded  to  comb  him  with  a 
curry-comb,  and  brush  him  down  with  the  horse-brush.  When  all 
this  was  through  he  would  give  him  his  breakfast  of  chopped  hay 
and  meal-hash,  as  he  called  it,  and  lead  him  to  the  trough  for  water. 
Mr.  Bottom  stood  by  the  ring,  and  Martin  was  brushing  his 
haunches,  giving  him  a  slap  now  and  then  to  make  him  move,  and 
uttering  a  sort  of  whistling  sound  as  he  polished  Mr.  Bottom's  coat. 

"  Get  round  there,  Mr.  Bottom.  Hi !  there,  don't  step  on  my 
toes.  Lively,  now  !  "  he  was  saying  to  the  old  horse,  when  a  voice 
spoke  out  behind  him  :  — 

"  Don't  mind  his  toes,  Mr.  Bottom ;  they  're  covered  with  nails." 
Martin  turned  short  round. 

"  Hen  !  where  did  you  drop  from  !  " 

"  Hens  drop,  they  don't  get  dropped." 

"  Well,  I  never.  I  heard  you  'd  been  in  Switzerland  along  with 
Mr.  Bodley.  Where  's  your  donkey  ? " 

"  Left  him  in  Europe,  where  he  belongs.     Folks  all  well  ?  " 

u  Yes,  and  they  '11  be  mighty  glad  to  see  you."  Hen  sat  down 
by  Mr.  Bottom,  on  the  threshhold  of  the  carriage  house,  and  took 
out  his  knife  to  whittle. 

"  That  sounds  like  Nathan,  in  the  shed,"  he  said  in  a  moment, 
and  then  began  to  whistle  the  tune  of  Admiral  Benbow.  He  had 


12 


178  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

hardly  whistled  more  than  a  stave  or  two  before  Nathan  came  run- 
ning out  of  the  shed.    Mr.  Bottom  concealed  Hen  from  his  view,  but 

O  J 

Hen  kept  on  whistling. 

"  Those  are  his  legs !  "  shouted  Nathan,  who  caught  sight  of  a 
familiar  pair  stretched  out.  After  Nathan,  came  Phippy  and  Lucy, 
who  were  not  far  behind,  and  they  all  began  pulling  Hen  about, 
who  kept  on  whistling  until  he  had  finished  his  tune. 

"  There!  "  said  he.  "  Never  begin  a  thing  that  you  don't  finish." 
He  felt  himself  bound  to  treat  the  children  with  little  moral  pre- 
cepts which  he  kept  about  him.  "  I  thought  maybe  you  'd  remem- 
ber Admiral  Benbow.  How  d'  ye  do  ?  How  's  your  mother  ? 
How  's  Nurse  Young  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  're  all  well,"  said  Phippy.  "  How  do  you  do  ?  but  what's 
the  use  of  asking,  when  we  can  see  you.  When  did  you  get  here  ? 
did  Martin  know  you  were  coming  ?  " 

"  No,  I  did  n't  know  anything  about  it,"  said  that  young  man. 
"  Hen  never  lets  on  when  he  's  coming." 

"Well,  now  you  're  here,"  said  Phippy,  with  great  satisfaction, 
"  and  mean  to  stay,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  1  '11  stay  till  I  go." 

"  What  was  it  you  brought  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  heard,  did  you  ?  Well,  let  me  see  where  it  can  be,"  and 
he  began  running  his  hand  into  one  pocket  after  another.  Then  he 
got  up  and  shook  himself.  Then  he  started  to  pull  off  his  boots,  but 
changed  his  mind.  He  passed  his  hand  through  his  hair,  which  was 
very  curly.  "  Oh,  I  remember  now,"  he  suddenly  said,  and  stood 
looking  down  the  avenue.  "  It 's  in  my  chest."  The  children  fol- 
lowed his  eye.  A  small  boy  with  a  wheelbarrow  was  coming  up  the 
avenue,  and  on  the  wheelbarrow  was  Hen's  chest.  The  boy  looked 
exceedingly  hot. 


DIVERS   STORIES. 

"  Here,  sonny,"  said  Hen,  as  the  boy  came  near.  "  You  can  put 
that  chest  right  in  the  carriage-house.  Martin  won't  mind.  And 
here  's  your  dollar." 

"  A  dollar,  Hen !  my  time,  did  you  hire  that  boy  to  wheel  your 
chest  out  for  a  dollar.  Any  expressman  would  have  brought  it  for 
a  quarter." 

"It's  worth  a  dollar,"  said  the  boy,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  his 
wheelbarrow,  looking  very  limp. 

"  Of  course  it  was,"  said  Hen.  "  You  see,"  he  explained,  as  the 
boy  trundled  his  wheelbarrow  off,  "the  boy  was  on  the  wharf,  right 
there,  and  he  took  the  chest  right  on  board  and  I  showed  him  the 
way.  He  got  going  so  slow  though,  for  he  couldn't  keep  up  with 
the  buggy,  that  I  told  him  where  it  was,  and  left  him  to  follow." 

"  Did  you  come  out  in  a  buggy,  Hen  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes.  I  'm  not  much  of  a  walker,  and  the  buggy  was  right 
there  on  the  wharf." 

"  Well,  if  you  a'n't  a  traveler,  Hen,"  said  Martin.  "  I  wonder 
you  did  n't  get  out  and  wheel  the  barrow." 

"  Well,  I  did  a  little  way;  you  see  the  boy  got  rather  tired." 

"  And  you  put  him  in  the  buggy  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Martin,  I  'm  here,  and  here  's  my  chest.  There  is  n't 
any  boy  here.  Let  the  boy  go." 

"  He  's  gone,"  said  Martin  chuckling  to  himself.  Just  then  the 
breakfast  bell  rang,  and  the  children  went  back  to  the  house,  prom- 
ising to  come  out  again  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over.  Mrs.  Bodley 
came  with  them,  and  Hen  ducked  to  her  with  great  readiness. 

"  Mornin',  Miss'  Bodley.  I  saw  Mr.  B.  at  Mount  Blank  a  few 
weeks  ago.  He  was  looking  uncommon  well.  Hope  you  're 
well  ?  " 


180  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Very  well,  Hen,  and  much  obliged  to  you  for  coming  back  to 
us.  You  must  make  yourself  at  home  here." 

"  Thank  ye  kindly.  I  mostly  am,"  and  he  ducked  again.  Then 
he  disappeared  a  moment  in  the  carriage  house  and  came  back  with 
something  wrapped  in  paper.  "I  thought  I'd  bring  something 
home  to  Lucy,  to  remember  me  by  when  I  'm  on  the  raging  seas. 
That 's  what  people  call  'em,  Lucy.  I  got  this  of  a  chap  at  Mar- 
seilles." It  was  a  lovely  piece  of  coral,  and  the  children  were  en- 
thusiastic over  it. 

"  It  was  fished  up  at  the  Silver  Banks  of  Hayti,  ma'am." 

"  Did  the  man  fish  it  up  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

Hen  looked  round  cautiously.  "  Well,  yes.  Should  say  he  did. 
Yes,  the  very  same  chap  went  down  there  after  it  in  a  diving  bell. 
You  don't  exactly  fish  for  corals  you  know." 

"  I  've  brought  up  small  shells  in  twenty  feet  of  water  down  at 
Hyannis  Port,"  said  Nathan. 

"  Want  to  know  !  and  you  dove  for  them,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  off  a  rock." 

"  And  how  long  did  you  stay  under  ?  " 

"  I  guess  about  three  minutes,"  said  Nathan,  reflecting. 

"  Just  wait  a  minute,"  said  Hen,  pulling  out  a  heavy  silver  watch. 
He  looked  steadily  at  the  face,  and  when  one  of  the  children  began 
to  speak,  he  raised  his  forefinger.  After  a  while,  he  put  it  back  in 
his  pocket.  "  Three  times  as  long  as  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  does  seem  rather  long." 

"  Two  times  is  long,"  said  Hen.  "  I  've  seen  those  fellows  in  the 
Mediterranean  dive  for  sponges,  and  if  they  stay  under  two  min- 
utes they  think  it  doing  pretty  well." 

"  How  do  they  get  the  sponges  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 


DIVERS  STORIES. 


181 


"  They  tear  them  off  the  rocks,  or  they  cut  them  off  with  a  knife 
they  carry  down." 

"  What  fun  !  "  said  Nathan. 

"  And  did  the  man  you  knew  dive  for  this  coral  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  Did  you  see  him  dive  ?  " 


Diving  for  Sponges. 

"  Well,  come  to  think  of  it,"  said  Hen,  "  he  did  n't  exactly  dive 
for  it.  It  was  his  brother  who  was  a  diver,  and  went  down  in  a 
diving  bell." 

"  Oh,  I  'd  like  that,"  said  Phippy.  "  Hen,  did  you  ever  go  down 
in  a  diving  bell  ?" 

Hen  looked  about  him.     "  Well,  yes.     Yes,  I  went  down  once." 

"  What  was  it  like  ?  " 


182 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


"  It  was  rather  tight  across  the  chest.  I  expect  you  can  tell 
about  it  better  than  I,  ma'am." 

"  I  suppose  Hen  felt  the  compression  of  the  air.  The  diving  bell 
holds  some  air,  but  it  is  soon  exhausted,  and  fresh  air  has  to  be 
pumped  in." 

"That's  it,"  said 
Hen.  "  I  've  seen  them 
working  a  diving  bell. 
There  are  seats  inside, 
where  they  sit  down  till 
they  get  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea.  Then  they 
move  the  bell  about 
when  they  want  t  o 
change  the  place,  and 
so  they  go  poking 
round  under  water.  I 
should  n't  like  it." 

"  It  seems  to  me," 
whispered  Phippy  to  Nathan,  "  that  Hen  is  only  telling  what  he 
has  heard." 

"  Should  n't  like  it  for  steady  work,"  said  Hen,  presently,  his 
ears  being  pretty  sharp.  "  But  the  divers  who  go  down  in  armor 
have  a  better  time.  I  saw  some  of  them  in  Marseilles.  They  've 
got  a  new  kind,  Mrs.  Bodley.  They  carry  a  box  of  air  on  their 
back,  and  draw  from  that,  and  the  people  up  above  pump  fresh  air 
into  it." 

"  The  people  up  above  ?"  asked  Lucy. 

a  Yes ;  you  see  the  man  that  goes  down  gets  into  an  India-rubber 


Interior  of  a  Diving  Bell. 


DIVERS  STORIES. 


183 


suit,  —  trousers,  boots,  and  jacket,  all  one  piece,  don't  you  see,  with 
a  helmet  that  rests  on  his  shoulders,  and  has  an  air  pipe  that  is  as 
long  as  can  reach  from  the  top  of  the  water  to  the  bottom,  and  the 
people  up  above  keep  that  filled  with  fresh  air.  He  gets  into  his 
heavy  armor,  has  a  line  fastened  to  his  belt,  so  that  he  can  be  pulled 
up  when  he  signals,  drops  off  into  the  water,  and  when  he  gets  to 
the  bottom  goes  about  like  a  great  beetle." 

"  How  does  he 
see  ?  "  asked  Phippy.  --^t\- 

"  Oh,  he  has  glass 
windows  in  his  hel- 
met. It  's  pretty 
light  down  there." 

';  But  what  do  they 
go  poking  about  for  ? 
Sponges  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so, 
and  pearls.  And  then 
the  men  that  lay  the 
.foundations  for  piers 

Of     bridges 


French  Diving  Apparatus. 

work  so.  They  say  everything  's  lighter  down  at  the  bottom,  and 
you  can  use  a  crowbar  just  like  a  walking  stick." 

"  Then  you  never  tried  it  ?  "  said  Phippy,  innocently. 

"  No,  I  never  tried  it.  Well,  no.  There  was  n't  anything  very 
heavy  lying  round  when  I  went  down.  But  say,  Nathan,  that  's  the 
way  they  go  down  sometimes  to  bring  up  things  from  wrecks." 

"  I  was  reading  only  the  other  day,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley,  "  of  some 
deep-sea  diving,  off  the  coast  of  China,  where  a  ship  had  sunk  -with 


184 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


a  great  deal  of  money  on  board.  The  ship  was  lost  near  a  high 
rock,  and  no  vessel  could  get  near  to  it,  so  the  divers  went  out  in  a 
boat,  and  hunted  and  hunted  till  they  found  the  wreck.  The  after 
part  was  nearly  two  hundred  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  water, 
and  it  was  there  that  the  treasure  was.  The  man  who  went  down 

found  that  worms  had 
eaten  into  the  boxes 
containing  the  coins, 
and  these  lay  in  heaps 
before  him.  He 
worked  four  hours  at 
one  time  below,  and 
came  up  very  much 
exhausted,  but  he  se- 
cured about  forty 
thousand  pounds  ster- 

1  •  J? 

hug. 

"  I  'd   go   down  for 
that,"  said  Hen. 

"  But  he  came  near  losing  it  all.  He  was  very  much  exhausted, 
and  wanted  some  water,  so  his  companion  volunteered  to  go  up  to 
the  top  of  the  island  and  fetch  some.  When  he  was  getting  his 
water  he  looked  off  and  saw  a  great  fleet  of  white  sails  coming,  from 
the  main  land.  He  hurried  back  and  told  the  diver,  who  said  they 
must  be  Chinese  piratical  junks." 

"I  know  the  fellows,"  said  Hen.  "His  life  wasn't  worth  ten 
cents  if  he  got  into  their  hands." 

"  So  he  thought,  and  though  he  was  nearly  dead  with  fatigue, 


Divers  at  Work. 


THANKSGIVING. 


185 


they  both  took  the  oars,  for  the  wind  was  light,  and  by  hard  pull- 
ing they  managed  to 
get  into  Shanghae  safe- 
ly, but  they  did  not  go 
back  for  the  rest.  But, 
bless  me  !  why,  Nathan, 
do  you  know  what  time 
it  is  ?  it  wants  only 
twenty  minutes  of  nine 
o'clock.  You  must  all 
scamper  off  to  school 
this  minute." 

"Good-by,  Hen," 
they  shouted.  "Be  sure 
and  be  here  when  we 
come  back."  They  were 
half  afraid  he  would  give 
them  the  slip  and  be  off 
no  one  knew  where.  But  Hen  was  in  no  hurry  to  go  to  sea  again. 
He  was  very  well  contented  to  stay  with  the  Bodleys. 


A  Chinese  Junk. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THANKSGIVING. 


THE  Sunday  before  Thanksgiving  Day  the  Bodleys  were  at 
church,  and  watching  eagerly  for  the  unfolding  of  that  great  sheet 
of  printed  paper  which  contained  the  Governor's  Proclamation  of 


186  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

the  annual  Thanksgiving.  They  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  day 
was  coming  on  Thursday,  but  the  announcement  of  it  in  church 
with  so  much  formality  always  gave  them  great  satisfaction.  So 
they  listened  to  the  sounding  phrases,  and  heard  the  final  "  God 
save  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts ! "  with  almost  as  much 
solid  pleasure  as  the  eating  of  the  dinner  itself  afforded.  Their  chief 
joy,  however,  was  in  the  anticipation  of  their  father's  return.  He 
had  sailed,  that  they  knew,  and  he  had  promised  that  he  would  be 
at  home  on  Thanksgiving  Day ;  but  as  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednes- 
day went  by  without  any  sign  of  the  Malta,  they  began  to  be 
uneasy.  The  turkey  had  come,  the  mince  pies  had  been  made,  and 
the  kitchen  had  been  busy  with  signs  of  preparation ;  but  what 
would  a  Thanksgiving  dinner  be  without  their  father !  Thursday 
morning  opened  bright,  sunny,  and  cold,  and  the  family  came  down 
to  breakfast.  The  children  had  all  been  in  the  play-room  at  the 
top  of  the  house,  looking  by  turns  through  Nathan's  spy-glass,  and 
trying  to  make  out  the  Malta  in  Boston  harbor. 

"  I  thought  I  saw  it  once,"  said  Nathan.  "  I  made  out  what 
looked  like  black  smoke." 

"  Hen  says  she  ought  to  be  in  to-day,"  said  Lucy. 

"  But  it 's  an  English  steamer,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  she  won't  care 
anything  about  its  being  Thanksgiving  Day." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  he  has  n't  come  yet  ?  "  said  a  voice  from 
the  china-closet.  The  children  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  all 
sprang  up  from  the  table  just  as  Ned  Adams  walked  out  of  the 
closet. 

"  Now,  Ned,"  said  Phippy,  "  I  think  that 's  real  mean.  I  thought 
for  just  a  second  it  was  papa.  How  did  you  get  here  ?  What 
makes  you  so  dusty  ?  Why,  you  're  all  over  coal." 


THANKSGIVING.  187 

"  Am  I  ?  "  said  the  young  gentleman,  screwing  his  head  round  to 
get  a  view  of  his  shoulders.  "  Well,  there  was  some  coal  there." 

"  You  did  n't  come  in  through  the  coal-window,  surely  ? "  said 
his  aunt. 

"  Then,  why  did  n't  you  leave  a  door  open  ?  I  don't  think  it  very 
hospitable,  when  I  come  out  here  early  in  the  morning,  for  you  to 
keep  every  place  locked  except  the  coal-window.  I  '11  warrant 
Uncle  Charles  is  down  in  the  coal-bin  now." 

"  Oh,  let 's  go  and  look  !  "  said  Phippy,  eagerly.  "  But  of  course 
he  is  n't.  It 's  only  young  collegians  like  you  who  try  to  surprise 
us  so.  How  did  you  get  up-stairs  ? " 

"  Oh,  Levia  guessed  I  was  coming,  and  came  down  cellar  just  at 
the  right  time,  at  least  not  a  bit  too  late  ;  "  and  Levia  looked  very 
'  red  as  she  moved  about,  setting  a  place  for  Ned. 

"  Did  she  scream  ?  "  asked  Nathan,  when  Levia  had  left  the  room. 

"  She  could  n't  decide  whether  to  scream  or  to  faint,  and  while 
she  was  making  up  her  mind  I  took  the  chance  to  tell  who  I  was." 

"  You  deserve  to  go  back  to  the  coal-bin,"  said  his  aunt,  "  break- 
ing in  in  this  fashion,  but  instead  you  may  go  up-stairs  and  get 
ready  for  breakfast.  You  will  have  to  take  your  uncle's  place  at 
dinner,  I  'm  afraid,"  she  said,  when  he  had  come  down-stairs  again ; 
"  but  we  won't  give  him  up  until  dinner  is  over." 

They  all  went  to  church,  and  listened  with  what  patience  they 
could  to  the  sermon,  and  then  hurried  home.  The  children  ran  up 
the  avenue,  racing  for  the  first  glimpse  of  their  father,  but  he  had 
not  come,  and  Lucy  went  straight  up-stairs  to  Nurse  Young  to  have 
a  quiet  cry  over  her  disappointment.  Ned  had  gone  into  town 
directly  after  church  to  see  if  he  could  learn  any  news  of  the  Malta, 
and  Phippy  and  Nathan  had  again  climbed  up  into  the  window-seat, 
spy-glass  in  hand,  in  a  vain  lookout  for  the  steamer. 


188 


MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 


"  Come,  come/'  cried  Mrs.  Bodley,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  I 
have  an  errand  for  you  all  before  dinner."  They  came  down  slowly 
and  gathered  in  the  hall. 

"  I  want  to  send  something  to  Mrs.  Early  and  Emily  for  their 
Thanksgiving  dinner,  and  you  may  all  go  over  there  together." 
The  basket  was  ready,  and  there  was  besides  a  mould  of  cape  cran- 
berries and  a  jar  of  Tamworth  blackberry  jam,  to  be  carried  sepa- 
rately, so  the  children  were 
each  laden,  and  they  set  oft' 
across  the  fields  to  Mrs.  Ear- 
ly's  house.  They  found  Emily 
in  her  seat  by  the  window, 
and  Mrs.  Early  by  the  fire 
smoking  a  pipe.  They  were 
very  much  surprised  at  this, 
and  stood  looking  so  hard  and 
writh  such  open  eyes,  that  Mrs. 
Early  laughed  and  said  :  - 

"Your  mother  does  n't 
smoke,    I    know.     Well,  well, 

Mrs.  Eariy.  it 's  a  poor  habit,  and  when  I 

get  older  I  mean  to  break  it  off.     Emily  does  n't  smoke." 

"  Aunt  Rebecca  says  it 's  good  for  the  geranium,"  said  Emily 
softly.  Her  crutch  was  by  the  side  of  her  chair  and  her  geranium 
on  the  window-seat. 

"  Has  your  father  come  back  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Early. 
"  No,  not  yet,"  said  Nathan.     "  We  're  expecting  him  every  min- 
ute.    Is  your  father  coming  to  Thanksgiving?"  he  asked  Emily. 
Emily  did  not  answer. 


THANKSGIVING.  189 

"  Never  mind,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Early,  putting  her  pipe  down  and 
going  up  to  the  child.  "  See  what  Mrs.  Bodley  has  sent,  Cran- 
berry !  Why,  here  's  a  cranberry  tart." 

"  That 's  for  Emily  herself,"  said  Phippy.  «  I  made  that  yester- 
day ;  Lucy  stirred  the  cranberry,  and  I  rolled  the  crust."  Mrs. 
Early  took  occasion  of  this  diversion  to  whisper  to  Nathan, 

"The  child's  father  is  a-dying,  out  at  Wrentham.  She's  just 
heard.  We  had  n't  told  her  before."  Lucy  had  seen  by  the  tears 
in  Emily's  eyes  that  something  was  wrong,  and  was  standing  by  her, 
holding  her  hand. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Emily,"  said  Nathan  ;  "  I  '11  come  down  with  the 
little  cart  after  dinner  and  drag  you  up  to  our  house.  Don't  you 
want  to  come  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  splendid,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  we  can  have 
games." 

"  Do  come,"  said  Lucy,  in  a  half  whisper.  Emily  had  been  sev- 
eral times  to  the  house,  and  loved  dearly  to  go.  Her  little  heart 
was  easily  moved,  and  she  looked  up  with  a  smile. 

"  You're  real  good,  Nathan,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  not  a  bit,"  said  he.  "  See,  I  can  make  a  cart  wheel,"  and 
before  the  children  could  protest,  he  was  spinning  over  Mrs.  Early's 
floor.  He  came  down  disastrously  at  the  end  of  the  whirl,  but  they 
all  laughed  so  hard  that  the  Bodleys  tumbled  out  of  the  house  and 
began  capering  up  the  road  before  Emily's  window.  They  sobered 
down  presently. 

"  You  did  n't  hear,"  said  Nathan,  "  but  Mrs.  Early  told  me  that 
Emily's  father  was  going  to  die,  and  she  had  just  told  her." 

"  I  knew  something  was  the  matter,"  said  Phippy.  "  I  just  knew 
something  was  the  matter  by  the  way  Emily  looked."  Lucy  said 
nothing  aloud.  She  was  saying  over  and  over  to  herself,  — 


190  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

"  Oh,  if  father  should  die  ;  what  if  he  has  been  drowned  on  that 
dreadful  steamer ! " 

They  passed  the  old  well  in  the  pasture,  and  so  by  the  Hollow  up 
to  the  pleasant  lawn.  Nathan  was  just  saying,  "  I  wonder  if  Ned 
has  come  back  yet,"  when  he  burst  out :  — 

"  I  see  him !  I  saw  him  first ! "  and  he  sped  like  an  arrow 
across  the  grass.  After  him  ran  Phippy,  but  she  stopped,  turned, 
and  held  out  her  hand  :  — 

"  Quick,  Lucy,  catch  my  hand  !  "  and  so  the  two  girls  scampered 
up  to  the  door.  Yes,  there  stood  their  father  in  the  doorway.  He 
had  that  moment  arrived,  and  the  three  children  in  a  twinkling  had 
their  arms  about  his  neck,  and  little  Lucy,  sobbing  for  very  gladness, 
had  buried  her  face  in  his  bosom. 

"  It 's  good  to  get  back  ! "  said  Mr.  Bodley,  while  Mrs.  Bodley, 
smiling  with  mouth  and  eyes,  looked  at  her  husband  and  children. 
Ned  came  a  half  an  hour  afterward  to  tell  them  that  the  Malta  was 
just  in,  and  it  was  a  happy,  merry  company  that  sat  about  the 
table. 

In  'the  afternoon,  Nathan  and  the  girls  went  with  the  little  cart 
for  Emily,  and  they  spent  the  afternoon  playing  games.  Martin 
went  to  town  with  Mr.  Bottom  and  brought  out  Mr.  Bodley's  lug- 
gage, and  the  games  were  very  much  interrupted  by  the  constant 
running  back  and  forth  as  the  trunks  were  unpacked  ;  but  the  pleas- 
antest  time  was  in  the  evening,  when  the  family  were  alone  before 
the  wood-fire  in  the  dining-room.  The  lamp  was  not  lighted,  and 
they  talked  and  chatted. 

"  I  do  hope  you  never  will  go  away  again,"  said  Lucy. 

"  If  I  do,  I  hope  I  may  take  you  all  with  me,  for  I  was  very 
lonely  without  you." 


THANKSGIVING.  191 

"  I  like  it  very  much  better  when  we  all  go  together,"  said  Lucy. 
"  We  came  out  here  together.  I  remember  that  first  day.  It  was 
the  first  journey  I  remember  a  great  deal  about,  and  it  was  only 
three  miles  long." 

u  Yes,"  said  Phippy,  "  and  don't  you  remember  how  Nathan  shot 
an  arrow  over  at  the  orphans  ? " 

"  And  how  he  fell  off  the  pigsty  ?  "  added  Lucy. 

"  Seems  to  me  you  remember  my  misfortunes  pretty  well,"  said 
Nathan.  "  That  was  the  year  father  suspended." 

"  And  we  ate  Nathan's  pig,"  quickly  added  his  mother. 

"  I  remember  that  Thanksgiving  Day  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Bod- 
ley.  "  It  was  quite  as  pleasant  as  this." 

"  It  was  after  that  that  we  had  our  picture-gallery,"  said  Phippy. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  have  some  reminiscences,"  said  Ned.  "  Let 
me  see,  there  was  the  Mother  Goose  party,  and  the  coasts  we  had 
on  Japhet." 

"  And  don't  you  remember  my  birthday,"  said  Lucy,  "  when  we 
all  drove  to  the  printing-office  ? " 

"  And  the  time  we  drove  to  Cambridge  and  Bunker  Hill  and 
Faneuil  Hall,"  said  Nathan. 

"  And  how  Nathan  sold  eggs  in  Faneuil  Hall  Market,"  added 
Phippy,  slyly.  "  That  was  not  so  very  long  ago." 

"  It  was  before  we  took  our  drive  down  the  coast  to  Newbury- 
port,"  said  her  mother. 

"  Oh,  I  never  shall  forget  that  as  long  as  I  live,"  said  Phippy. 
"  I  mean  to  take  my  children  on  just  such  a  drive." 

*"  Papa,"  said  Nathan,  "  I  wish  you  would  let  Ned  and  me  walk 
through  Europe  just  as  when  we  went  to  New  Haven  last  spring." 

"  Just  the  thing ! "  said  Phippy,  "  and  we  '11  meet  you  on  the 


192  MR.    BODLEY  ABROAD. 

way,  and  surprise  you  at  Paris,  or  Constantinople,  or  some  other 
place." 

"  I  think  the  family  has  done  quite  enough  traveling  for  the 
present,"  said  Mrs.  Bodley.  "  We  must  wait  till  you  're  a  little 
older." 

"  After  all,"  said  Mr.  Bodley,  "  if  you  had  got  back  from  a  jour- 
ney, as  I  have,  you  'd  think  no  place  quite  so  delightful  as  home. 
Come,  Sarah,  open  the  piano,  and  we  '11  all  sipg  '  Dulce  Domum.' 
That's  not  a  bad  Thanksgiving  song;"  and  so  the  lamp  was  lighted, 
the  piano  opened,  and  the  Bodleys  gathered  about  to  sing  the  sweet 
song :  — 


THANKSGIVING. 


193 


Come,  companions,  ;om  ?our  toice& 

(Dulce  Domum.) 

SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY. 

Tm°  attrihaed  to  John  Readi^' 


time,  and  smoothly. 

i|_^zzzi 


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1.  Come,  com  -  pan  -  ions,  join       your  voi  -  ces,  Hearts  with  pleas  -  ure       hound  - 

2.  Con  -  ci   -    na-  mus,     O         so     -     -     da    -    les!      E     -    ja,    quid     si    -    le  - 


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mus?          No  -  bi  -  le  can  -  ti-cum,  dul  -  ce  me  -   los,  Do-mum, do- mum     re-  so 


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MR.    BOD  LEY  ABROAD. 


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-  Bound-  ing,  Home!  sweet  hom0,wttbey  -  'ry  pleas  -  ure,  Home!  with  ev    -  'ry        bless  -   ing 
-  ne  -  mus,   Do  -  mum  !  do-  mum  !  dul  -  ce    do  -  mum  !  Dul  -  ce    do  -  mum        re    -    so  - 


crown'd  !  Home  I  our  best    de-  light     and    treas  -  ure  !  Home  !  the  wel  -   come  strain   re  - 
mus.    Do-  mum!  do  -mum!  dul  -   ce         do  -mum!   Dul  -  ce    do   -   mini       re   -   so  - 


Quit,    my     woa  -  ry     muse,    your 
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la   -  hors,   Quit    your  books  and        learn  - 
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THANKSGIVING. 


195 


yearn-ing,Home !  sweet  home,with  ev  -  'ry  pleas  -ure,  Home  .'with  ev'   -   rv      bless-   ine 
-  ra:  Do -mum!  do  -  mum!  dul  -  ce   do  -  mum!  Dul  -  ce    do  -  miim       re    -    so 


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crown'd;  Home  Jour  best     de- light     and    treas-  ure  .'Home!  the  wel  -    come  strain     re 
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196  MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

CHAPTER   X. 

THE    MAID    OF    ORLEANS. 

IN  the  winter  Mr.  Bodley  traveled  to  Europe  over  again,  but 
this  time  in  a  very  simple  and  agreeable  manner,  in  company  with 
his  family.  He  had  brought  home  a  good  many  photographs  and 
engravings,  and  he  took  the  leisure  evenings  for  making  a  scrap- 
book  of  these,  arranging  them  in  the  order  of  his  journey.  Many 
of  the  pictures  illustrated  what  he  had  written  about,  and  the  chil- 
dren grew  very  familiar  with  them.  Then  when  they  came  across 
anything  in  their  books  about  places  or  people  in  Europe,  they  were 
very  sure  to  go  to  papa  and  papa's  scrap-book  for  further  informa- 
tion, and  it  often  happened  that  a  whole  evening  would  be  spent 
by  Mr.  Bodley  in  answering  questions.  So  it  was  that  one  evening 
Phippy,  who  had  been  reading  a  story,  found  something  in  it  about 
the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

"Papa,"  said  she,  "  who  was  the  Maid  of  Orleans  ?  Did  you  see 
her  ?  " 

"  No,  Phippy,  I  did  not  see  her,  though  I  saw  her  statue  in  Or- 
leans when  I  was  there.  Here  it  is  in  my  scrap-book.  Would  you 
like  to  hear  about  her  ?  "  Phippy's  book  was  instantly  shut,  and 
Nathan  and  Lucy  bent  over  the  scrap-book  with  her,  as  her  father 
turned  the  pages  and  told  them  the  story  of  Joan  of  Arc. 

"  You  know  that  England  and  France  are  two  separate  countries, 
having  different  people  and  different  rulers,  but  it  was  not  always 
so.  From  France,  the  Normans  crossed  the  English  Channel,  and 
made  themselves  masters  of  the  land.  That  was  about  the  time 
that  the  Northmen  made  their  voyages  to  this  country.  Then 


THE  MAID   OF  ORLEANS. 


197 


nearly  four  hundred  years  afterwards,  seventy  years  before  Colum- 
bus again  discovered  our  country,  the  English  were  making  war 
upon  France,  and  claiming  to  rule  it,  and  the  French  king,  Charles, 
was  very  hardly  pushed.  The  principal  point  of  attack  by  the 
English  was  the  town 
o  f  Orleans,  on  the 
banks  of  the  river 
Loire.  They  had  laid 
siege  to  the  place,  and 
so  grave  seemed  the 
time  that  some  were 
even  advising  king 
Charles  to  flee  to  Spain, 
or  even  to  Scotland,  for 
Scotland  was  then  a 
separate  country  from 
England,  and  very  apt 
to  be  at  war  with  it, 
and  friendly  with 
France. 

"  Now,  there  was  a 
little  village,  called  Vau- 
couleurs,  not  far  from 
the  border  of  France 
and  Germany,  and 

placed     in   a   WOOded   and  Statue  of  Joan  of  Arc,  at  Orleans. 

hilly  country.  Here,  at  the  village  inn,  was  a  country  girl  from  the 
neighborhood,  named  Joan  of  Arc,  who  was  a  servant,  and  as  she 
waited  at  the  table  she  heard  many  stories  of  the  distress  of  France 


198  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

and  of  the  French  king.  She  was  different  from  the  people  about 
her,  a  silent,  devout  girl,  who  thought  about  many  things,  and 
passed  much  of  her  time  alone.  In  that  wild  country  the  peasants, 
ignorant  and  simple,  were  used  to  think  that  everything  strange 
came  from  fairies  or  from  saints  and  angels.  If  there  was  anything 
which  they  could  not  explain,  they  thought  it  had  to  do  with  the 
other  world,  for  to  them  the  other  world  was  close  about  them,  and 
when  they  walked  through  the  woods,  or  sat  by  the  fountains,  they 
were  expecting  to  hear  the  wings  of  fairies,  or  to  see  visions  of 
saints  and  angels. 

"  Joan  could  not  read,  but  she  went  to  church  and  heard  the  gos- 
pels, and  the  prayers,  and  the  psalms.  Before  she  was  a  maid  at 
the  inn,  she  was  a  shepherd  girl,  and  I  think  she  must  often  have 
thought  of  David  keeping  his  sheep,  and  of  the  shepherds  who 
heard  the  song  of  the  angels.  She  brooded  over  the  wrongs  of  her 
country  and  her  country's  king,  and  when  she  thought  of  those 
English  invaders,  she  remembered  the  psalms  of  David,  and  how  he 
called  on  God  to  arise  and  smite  His  enemies  ;  she  remembered  how 
David  himself  went  from  keeping  his  sheep  to  fight  alone  the  giant 
Goliath.  She  had  from  childhood  seen  visions,  as  she  thought ; 
sometimes  of  the  Archangel  Michael,  sometimes  of  Saint  Catherine, 
or  Saint  Margaret,  and  now,  wrought  to  excitement  by  the  wrongs 
of  her  country,  she  heard  a  voice,  which  she  said  was  the  voice  of 
God,  bidding  her  go  to  the  help  of  King  Charles. 

"  She  went  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  Vaucouleurs,  and  so  elo- 
quently did  this  silent  maid  plead,  that  the  rough  man,  much  won- 
dering, determined  to  send  her  on.  He  gave  her  a  suit  of  man's 
clothes  and  a  horse,  and,  placing  her  under  the  care  of  an  escort, 
sent  her  forward  to  the  king's  camp  at  Chinon.  There  was  the 


THE  MAID   OF  ORLEANS.  201 

king  in  the  midst  of  his  companions,  and,  to  test  her  powers,  he 
appeared  like  them,  dressed  no  differently,  and  not  marked  in  any 
way.  Joan,  not  hesitating,  went  straight  to  the  one  man  out  of 
three  hundred.  Charles  listened  to  her  as  she  told  her  visions  and 
her  mission.  She  had  been  sent  by  God,  she  said,  for  the  deliver- 
ance of  France.  Some  jeered  and  scoffed,  but  there  were  many 
who  were  ready  to  believe  her.  How  could  France  be  saved  in  this 
extremity,  except  by  a  miracle  ?  and  here  was  the  miracle,  a  woman 
sent  of  God.  Joan  cared  nothing  for  herself  or  her  honor.  She 
was  filled  with  an  enthusiasm  for  her  country  and  her  God,  and  that 
made  people  believe  her.  Charles  believed  her.  At  any  rate  he 
saw  what  power  she  had.  He  gave  her  a  suit  of  armor,  and  gaining 
confidence  every  day,  he  finally  gave  her  a  little  army  of  six  thou- 
sand men  or  more,  and  with  them  she  marched  to  the  relief  of  Or- 
leans. There  she  sent  a  message  to  the  English  general,  calling  on 
him  in  the  name  of  God  to  deliver  the  kingdom  to  its  rightful  heir, 
or  she  would  drive  him  out  of  the  country.  The  English  killed  her 
messenger  and  treated  Joan  with  contempt.  But  Joan  showed  her- 
self a  true  leader  of  men.  She  was  everywhere,  inspiring  her  follow- 
ers with  courage  and  zeal.  She  succeeded  in  introducing  provisions 
into  the  besieged  city ;  she  outwitted  the  English  general.  She 
succeeded  finally  in  bringing  her  army  within  the  walls  of  Orleans ; 
and  now  the  city  reenforced,  and  full  of  devotion  to  the  maid,  fought 
desperately.  Joan  herself  was  on  the  walls,  directing,  encouraging, 
inspiring  the  soldiers.  The  French  called  her  a  saint,  the  English 
called  her  a  sorceress,  and  began  to  say  that  it  was  an  unequal  con- 
test, for  they  were  fighting  against  powers  of  the  air.  They  lost 
confidence,  and  gave  way  before  the  French.  Twice  did  Joan  sally 
out  at  the  head  of .  her  troops  and  drive  the  English  before  her ;  and 


202  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

at  length,  making  a  wild  attack  upon  the  bastile  of  Tournelles,  Joan 
herself  scaling  the  ramparts,  sword  in  hand,  the  French  threw  the 
English  into  unutterable  confusion.  These  fled,  leaving  sick  and 
wounded,  and  arms  and  ammunition,  behind  them.  The  siege  was 
raised,  and  Orleans  was  delivered. 

"  Then  Joan  went  to  Tours  where  Charles  was.  Though  called 
king,  and  claiming  to  be  king,  he  had  not  yet  been  browned,  and 
Joan  coming  before  him,  still  obeying  the  voice  which  she  heard, 
knelt  and  delivered  her  message,  that  he  was  to  go  to  Rheims  to 
be  consecrated.  The  English  still  held  possession  of  that  ancient 
city  where  the  kings  of  France  had  for  generations  received  their 
crowns ;  but,  dispirited  by  the  loss  of  battle  at  Orleans,  they  gave 
way  again  before  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  who  rode  by  the  side  of 
Charles,  and,  defeated  in  battle  at  Patay,  left  Rheims  to  the  con- 
quering army,  its  king,  and  its  heroine. 

"  In  the  splendid  cathedral  of  that  city  Charles  was  crowned  king 
of  France,  and  Joan  declared  her  work  accomplished.  She  had  no 
thought  for  her  own  honor ;  she  had  saved  France  ;  Charles  had 
been  consecrated  king.  For  herself,  she  wished  now  that  God  would 
suffer  her  to  go  back  to  the  woods  and  fields  of  Domremy,  to  take 
care  of  her  poor  father  and  mother,  and  feed  once  more  her  sheep 
and  lambs.  But  she  could  not  go  back  to  that  simple  life.  She  had 
been  appointed  to  another  end.  Paris  was  still  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  and  Charles  had  not  the  enthusiasm  of  Joan.  The  victory 
gained  was  slipping  out  of  hands  that  had  not  the  nerve  to  hold 
it,  and  once  more  Joan  appeared  before  Charles,  and  demanded,  in 
obedience  to  her  visions,  that  the  army  should  inarch  upon  Paris. 
Charles  hesitated,  his  generals  were  cautious,  and  they  moved 
forward  slowly.  But  at  length  they  came  before  the  city,  and 


THE  MAID   OF -ORLEANS.  205 

Joan  of  Arc,  springing  before   the  army,  sword  in  hand,  dashed 


Rheims  Cathedral. 


up  to  the  walls  and  called  upon  the  English  to  render  up  the  city 
to  its  rightful  owners.     The  storm  of  battle  raged  about  her,  and 


206 


MR.   BVDLEY  A 


she  fell  pierced  by  an  arrow  from  an  English  archer ;  wounded, 
she  still  urged  on  the  men  ;  but  night  came,  the  city  was  not  taken, 
and  a  retreat  was  ordered.  In  vain  Joan  besought  the  generals  to 
make  a  stand.  The  army  fell  back,  while  the  English  and  some 
treacherous  French  allies  sallied  forth  from  the  city  and  pursued 
Charles  and  his  forces.  Compiegne  was  besieged,  and  Joan,  who 
had  partially  recovered  from  her  wounds,  made  a  dash  with  some 

faithful  followers  into 
the  city,  placed  her- 
self at  the  head  of 
the  forces  there,  and 
again  confronted  the 
English.  Taking  a 
handful  of  men,  she 
sallied  out  from  the 
gates  and  rushed  up- 
on the  enemy.  Her 
men  were  cut  down, 
and,  falling  back  step 
by  step,  she  sought 
to  regain  the  walls  of  the  city.  She  reached  the  gates,  but  base 
treachery  within  had  closed  them  against  her.  She  was  alone  upon 
her  horse,  shut  out  from  those  she  was  defending,  and  at  the  mercy 
of  the  men  she  was  fighting.  They  dragged  her  from  her  horse 
and  took  her  prisoner  to  the  English  camp. 

"  There  were  base  Frenchmen  in  alliance  with  the  English,  and 
Joan  was  delivered  over  to  them  to  be  tried.  She  was  accused  of 
rebellion  and  of  sorcery.  For  four  months  she  was  under  trial  and 
torture  at  Rouen,  a  picturesque  old  city  with  a  famous  cathedral, 


Joan   of  Arc  Tower. 


HOTEL    DU    BOUNGTHEROULDE. 


THE  MAID   OF  ORLEANS.  209 

and  they  show  still  the  round  tower  in  which  Joan  was  confined, 
and  where  she  was  tried  and  tortured.  Poor  girl !  there  was  no 
one  to  defend  her.  She  had  a  homesickness  for  the  old  Domremy 
woods  and  pastures,  but  she  would  not  yield  to  the  tortures,  and 
she  maintained  that  she  had  been  only  obedient  to  the  visions  which 
God  had  given  her.  I  stood,  when  in  Kouen,  in  the  old  Hotel  du 
Boungtheroulde,  used  now  as  a  banking-house,  and  looked  out  on 
the  market-place,  where  there  is  a  fountain  with  a  cross  above  it. 
On  that  spot,  May  20,  1431,  in  the  twenty-ninth  year  o/  her  age, 
Joan  of  Arc  was  burned  to  death  in  the  presence  of  her  judges 
and  of  a  vast  company  of  French  and  English.  It  was  a  terrible 
end,  but  that  hour  of  suffering  only  makes  brighter  the  heroism  of 
the  girl  and  the  cowardice  and  ignominy  of  her  king  and  her  per- 
secutors. In  the  midst  of  the  flames  she  was  faithful  to  those 
who  had  been  faithless  to  her. 

"  •'  Whatever  I  have  done,'  she  shouted,  '  well  or  ill,  my  king  is 
not  to  blame.' 

"  '  My  voices  were  from  God ;  the  voices  have  not  deceived  me.' 
"  Think  of  that !  she  believed  in  her  divine  mission,  and  she  for- 
gave her  enemies.  Ah,  Phippy,  I  sometimes  hear  you  talking  about 
the  grand  things  you  would  like  to  do.  The  greatness  of  Joan  of 
Arc  was  not  seen  half  so  much  when  she  was  flashing  her  sword 
before  the  army,  as  when  she  was  dying  alone  but  obedient  in  the 
flames  at  Rouen." 

This  was  not  the  last  story  which  Mr.  Bodley  told  to  the  chil- 
dren, nor  was  it  the  last  journey  which  he  took,  but  after  this  the 
children  were  busy  with  their  schools  and  their  books.  Nathan 


14 


210  MR.   BODLEY  ABROAD. 

was  getting  ready  for  college ;  Ned  Adams  was  nearly  ready  to 
leave  college.  The  Bodley  Family  lived  on,  even  though  the  chil- 
dren gradually  ceased  to  be  children.  Yet  I  do  not  like  even  now 
to  say  good-by  to  them.  If  we  could  only  keep  them  young  a 
little  while  longer ! 


EXCELLENT  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  FOLKS. 

f=  Every  one  of  the  boolcs  named  on  tJiis  page  is  thoroughly  Interestina 
and  so  wholesome  that  parents  may  safely  put  it  in  the  hands  of  chil-' 
dren.    These  books  are  admirable  for  Holiday  or  Birthday  Gifts. 

THE  DELIGHTFUL   BODLEY  BOOKS. 

The  little  folk  all  know  the  Bodley  Books  and  delight  in  them.  Mr.  Scudder  is  a  model  story- 
teller for  children,  a  miracle  worker  in  the  matter  of  awakening  interest.  — New  York  Eveniii"-  Post. 

So  delightful  that  any  reader,  young  or  old,  would  be  glad  to  have  more  like  them.  —  The  Watch- 
man (Boston). 

DOINGS  OF  THE  BODLEY  FAMILY  IN  TOWN  AND  COUNTRY. 

With  77  beautiful  illustrations.     $1.50. 
THE  BODLEYS  TELLING  STORIES. 

With  8 1  attractive  Pictures,  and  a  richly  illuminated  cover.    $1.50. 

THE  BODLEYS  ON  WHEELS. 

With  77  excellent  Pictures,  and  a  curiously  ornamental  cover.    $1.50. 
THE  BODLEYS  AFOOT. 

With  79  engaging  Pictures,  and  a  fascinating  cover.     $1.50. 
MR.  BODLEY  ABROAD. 

The  "  Bodley  Book  "  for  1880.     With  numerous  fine  Pictures  and  a  Holiday  cover.     $1.50, 
fl^^   The  Bodley  Books  are  among  the  best,  most  popular,  and  most  attractive  books  ever  produced 
for  young  folks,  and  older  readers  find  them  singularly  interesting. 

MOTHER  GOOSE'S  MELODIES  FOR  CHILDREN. 

Illustrated  with  8  full-page   Colored  Pictures,  by  ALFRED   KAPPES.     Cover  beautifully 

stamped.     $3.00. 

This  is  beyond  comparison  the  most  beautiful  "  Mother  Goose  "  ever  printed.  The  pictures  are 
very  well  drawn,  the  color  printing  is  admirable,  and  both  old  folks  and  young  folks  will  find 
"  Mother  Goose  "  more  fascinating  than  ever  in  this  new  dress.  This  is  a  Royal  Gift-Book. 

BEING  A  BOY. 

By  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER,  author  of  "  My  Summer  in  a  Garden,"  etc.    Illustrated 

by  "Champ."     $1.50. 

The  book  is  full  of  the  dry,  unexpected  humor  of  which  Mr.  Warner  is  a  master,  and  is  equally 
delightful  to  boys  of  all  ages  from  six  to  say  sixty  or  seventy  years.  It  is  full  of  clever  pictures,  too, 
by  "  Champ,"  who  has  so  fully  entered  into  the  author's  spirit  that  the  text  and  the  illustrations  seem 
to  be  necessary  parts  of  the  single  whole.  —  New  York  Evening  Post. 

THE  STORY  OF  A  CAT. 

An  amusing  French  story,  translated  by  T.  B.  ALDRICH.    With  many  entertaining  sil-. 
houette  pictures,  and  a  wonderful  cover.     $1.00. 

THE  STORY  OF  A  BAD  BOY. 

By  T.  B.  ALDRICH.     Fully  illustrated.    $1.50. 

Tom  Bailey  has  captivated  all  his  acquaintances.  He  must  be  added  hereafter  to  the  boys'  gallery 
of  favorite  characters,  side  by  side  with  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  and  the  "  Swiss  Family  Robinson,'  and 
"  Tom  Brown  at  Rugby."  —  New  York  Tribune. 

PLAY-DAYS. 

A  Book  of  Stories  for  Children.     By  SA'RAH  O.  JEWETT,  author  of  "  Deephaven."     $1.50. 
A  book  that  children  will  take  great  delight  in.     It  has  charming  stories  of  the  Water  Dolly,  Prissy's 
Visit,  Nancy's  Doll,  The  Best  China  Saucer,  Half-done  Polly,  Woodchucks,  The  Kitten  s  Ghost,  Ihe 
Pepper  Owl,  The  Yellow  Kitten,  and  others  that  will  entertain  little  readers  thoroughly.     The  s 
are  equally  wholesome  and  entertaining. 

V  for  sale  by  all  Booksellers.     Sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  Publishers, 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLJN  AND  COMPANY,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


BY   THE  AUTHOR   OF  "THE  BODLEY  BOOKS." 

. 


STORIES  AND   ROMANCES. 

A  New  Volume,  by  HORACE  E.  SCUDDER.     i  vol.     i6mo,  $1.25. 

CONTENTS :  Left  Over  from  the  Last  Century.  —  A  House  of  Entertainment.  —  Accidentally 
Overheard.  —  A  Hard  Bargain.  —  A  Story  of  the  Siege  of  Boston.  —  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and 
John.  —  Do  not  even  the  Publicans  the  same  ?  —  Nobody's  Business. 

"  This  is  an  uncommonly  attractive  volume  of  short  stories.     They  are  marked  by  fine  imagination, 
felicitous  description,  delicate  humor,  and  a  literary  charm  which  makes  them  delightful  reading." 


THE   DWELLERS   IN   FIVE-SISTERS   COURT. 

A  Novel.     i6mo.     $1.25. 

A  very  pleasant,  genial  story  it  is,  with  sufficient  variety  in  incident,  a  flavor  of  romance  and  mys- 
tery, which  adds  to  its  attractions.  —  Worcester  Spy. 

There  are  two  excellent  tendencies  in  the  present  novel.  One  is  that  of  the  dry  humor  shown,  for 
example,  in  the  author's  amusing  treatment  of  the  four  German  musicians  ;  the  other,  which  is  more 
important,  is  his  reliance  on  simple  sentiment  as  an  element  of  interest.  —  Atlantic  Monthly. 


SEVEN    LITTLE   PEOPLE  AND   THEIR   FRIENDS. 

With  illustrations  and  vignettes  on  stone  and  on  wood.     In  one  vol.     i6mo.     Decorative 

binding.     75  cents. 

It  is  the  greatest  merit  of  the  book  that  it  is  designed  for  the  culture  and  development  of  the  im- 
agination in  children.  —  The  Atlantic  Monthly. 


STORIES   FROM   MY  ATTIC. 

With  wood-cut  engravings  and  vignettes.     In  one  volume.     i6mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

Mr.  Scudder,  who  has  written  this  pretty  book,  has  as  pleasant  a  gift  as  any  author  we  know  for 
interesting  children  through  their  imaginative  and  generous  side,  —  most  people  being  content  to 
take  their  wonder  and  fancy.  He  writes  suggestively  for  them,  as  here  and  there  an  agreeable 
essayist  or  poet  does  for  his  elders ;  and  he  has  a  style  so  charmingly  simple  and  easy  that  we  can 
no  more  give  him  up  to  the  children  than  we  can  allow  them  Andersen  altogether.  —  The  Atlantic 
Monthly. 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


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